


If It Means a Lot to You

by megn



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: F/M, Love, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-01-16 07:18:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 49,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1336834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megn/pseuds/megn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's better to burn than to fade away.  It's better to leave than to be replaced."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is the intro chapter to this story, it's not very much, and it's definitely not crazy exciting yet, but to give you a basic idea of the story:
> 
> It follows Evelyn Abrams, a former pro tennis player (for a brief period when she was 16-18) who had to quit playing professionally because of an injury. Now, Evelyn is 24, has a brother who is the #3 juniors player in the world (his name is Felix, and I think you're going to like him) and a father, Roy, who was a pro in the 80's and 90's, and now coaches Felix. Evelyn works as a tour physician, so basically just making sure any medical needs of the players are taken care of etc. 
> 
> And of course, Novak Djokovic: pro tennis player and seriously such a babe. 
> 
> I think that's all you really need to know about this story right now, I'm working on writing more currently and hope to post soon! :)

_“Ev,” Novak whispered. Evelyn shivered at the sound of the nickname rolling off his tongue._

_“Nov,” she murmured back to him. She felt his hand falling dangerously low on her back. Evelyn dropped one hand from around his neck and corrected its placement, moving it to where it was supposed to lay on her middle back before replacing her hand to it’s former position._

_“Why don’t you call me Nole?” He asked, his lips getting a little too close to her skin. She tilted her head away from his lips, further exposing her neck to him, though it only made it harder for Novak to restrain._

_“We’ve been over this,” Evelyn told him. “It’s first and foremost not logical, I will never understand how an ‘L’ sound comes out from Novak. It’s like if people called me Elle. Secondly, it makes me feel like I’m in Spanish class. Nole, olé,” she took a long breath, and looked him in the eyes. “But if it means a lot to you, I can call you Nole,” she breathed, putting a heavy Spanish accent on Nole._

_“No, I like Nov from you. It’s different, we’re different,” he smiled._

_The song ended, and Evelyn dropped her arms from Novak’s neck._

_“I should let someone else have a chance to dance with the champion,” Evelyn drawled, pulling away, much to the dismay of Novak. She gave him a wink before she walked away, probably to find Felix. Novak watched her go, her long legs hidden under the burgundy gown she wore, once again, to the chagrin of Novak._

__

  
**Six months prior ******

 

Evelyn Abrams felt more like a personal trainer than a physical therapist. It had taken five years to get the title, and now that she had it, she was starting to realize that it was not what she thought it was. The ATP had been more than happy to employ her as a “tour physician” seeing family connections, and she had graduated at the top of her class, was young, and willing to be on call 24/7. She wasn’t sure how ready she was to be back in the middle of the tennis world, but she was here none the less, and the contract she had signed last month said that she was going to be here for a year, so she figured she better get used to it. 

“Rafa, get lower, you should be warming up right here,” she coached, pointing to her inside lower thigh. The scientific name for it was the vastus medialis, but most of the population didn’t know that, even if they did speak fluent English, which Rafa didn’t, so a visual was generally the way to go. Rafa nodded in acknowledgement, and started dipping lower for his squats. This was her third practice with Rafa. Being the sweetheart of professional tennis, save Federer of course, her schedule was magically rearranged to fit the needs of Rafa, whom she had now created a 15 minute warm-up routine specifically tailored to the most liable muscles to be battered in a match or even practice. Of course, she was assured every player got equal treatment, but that didn’t seem to be the case here. 

“I see you tomorrow, sí?” Rafa asked during the water break Toni had allowed him after finishing Evelyn’s warm-up. 

“Sí, mañana, nosotros practicamos. Me dices a qué hora, y yo estoy allí,” Evelyn smiled, happy to finally be able to practice a little Spanish. Rafa smiled at the Spanish, and Evelyn tried to think if she had mentioned she spoke it yet. It didn’t really matter she figured.

“A las nueve,” Toni nodded at her, and she confirmed this with a quick salute before she left the two to their training. Walking to the health center, which was really just a tiny building with about three offices and a communal “waiting area” which was used for a place to sit and talk between the five full time physicians more or less. There was Garrett Keane, an American, Rogelio Augustine, from Spain, but everyone called him Ro, Luca Marcel, a German, and lastly, Ariel Blaise, who went by Ari, and was native to France. Evelyn was the only female physician on the tour, and also, the only PT. Outside of the office that was temporarily hers, there was a large calendar where players and coaches could fill in times they wanted to see her, and where. It was already one thirty, and most appointments were in the morning. She knew that from five to six she was meeting with Jack Duckworth, some Australian wild card player who has a wrist that was bothering him. Looking over the paper, she did see one new addition. From two to four, in unusually neat writing, ‘Felix Abrams’ was written in, with a little smiley face next to the name. Evelyn shook her head before proceeding into the pathetic excuse for an office that was provided for her. The physicians apparently traded off who got real offices every tournament, and they’d given her an office for this one. Inside the room, she saw a tall, tanned boy sitting in her chair, smiling up at her. 

“Early for your appointment?” Evelyn questioned, a sharp edge to her voice.  
“How do you know I’m not genuinely looking for your professional advice? Maybe my knees are bothering me again,” Felix accused. Evelyn’s face softened, and she took the bait, asking a wary, “Are they?”

“I’m fine Lynnie,” Felix assured her, standing from the chair and stretching out. “I just feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. You’re all mine for the next two hours though,” he grinned, and his boyish features showed through, a reminder that he was only 15. 

“Does dad know you’re doing this?” Evelyn asked suspiciously. She knew the answer. Of course he hadn't told their father. It was bad enough that Roy Abrams couldn't take Felix back to Florida to train for the next two weeks, but that he was spending time with Evelyn instead of networking, or training with the other players, that made things worse.

"I've met every tennis player on the face of this planet, and I went on a five mile run this morning," Felix answered, as if this justified not training. It was good enough for Evelyn though. 

Neither Felix nor Evelyn had eaten yet, so they went to the players lounge to buy an overpriced hamburger, and sat down at one of the few empty tables. Idle chit chat about anything and everything ensued, and Evelyn had to admit, she was glad Felix had set this up. 

As Evelyn was finishing a story about Luca doing some terribly embarrassing, yet Luca-esque thing, a man approached the table.

"Felix!" He greeted with a wide smile, clapping the boy on the back. At a glance, Evelyn recognized Novak Djokovic. Felix had told her the two had become friends at some point. 

"Nole," Felix replied, equally enthusiastic. "First match tomorrow. You pumped?" 

"I’m excited, yeah. I saw clips from some of your matches, congratulations! Soon you'll be taking me on," he laughed. 

"Thanks," Felix grinned, before looking to his sister. "Nole, this is my sister, Evelyn, Evelyn, this is Nole."

"Hi," Evelyn greeted, reaching out for a handshake. 

"You work with Rafa?” Nole asked, though it was more of a statement than a question really. 

“Sometimes it feels more like I work for him, but yeah. Making sure he stays healthy. I’m technically a tour physician though, so I guess I really work for all the players.”

“How did you end up a tennis player, and your sister a doctor?” Novak joked, directing the question at Felix. Felix shifted restlessly, Novak having put him in an uncomfortable situation without realizing it. 

“Life just works out that way sometimes,” Evelyn shrugged, hiding the small grimace that had covered her face moments ago like she’s trained herself to do so well. Felix nodded along with this answer, and Novak seemed to miss entirely that he had just hit a very sensitive subject. 

“Hey, when are you playing next, I want to come watch?” Felix asked, trying to move the subject away from Evelyn before they could get back into it. Novak smiled, divulged the time and place, and with a few more minutes of small talk, he left. Evelyn excused herself soon after as well, claiming that she needed to get some things before she met with her next appointment. Felix sent her off with a hug, promising that he would see her later. 

***

“Shit,” was the only word that managed to slip out from Novak’s lips as he rubbed at the back of his thigh. This could not be good. He was only in the third round, and he’d managed to fuck himself up already. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. The Australian was his tournament. 

“Novak,” Marian said, his tone not harsh or chastising, but instead showing genuine concern. Novak tried to stand up straighter and pretend that nothing had just happened, but Marian could see through that act. “I can’t help you if you won’t let me,” Marian reminded him sternly. Novak was glad that Boris wasn’t here to witness this. He loved the man, but he could push a little harder than he needed to sometimes, and while Novak knew he had only the best intentions, things came across wrong a lot with Boris. 

“Might just be a cramp,” Novak shrugged it off, doing a few warm-up kangaroos to try to adjust his muscles. A wince gave him away though, and Marian turned on his heel heading away from Novak. “Where are you going?” Novak frowned, though not making an attempt to go after him. Novak watched as his coach made his way to practice court three, where he could see Rafa warming up with Felix’s sister and Toni. A few words were exchanged, and Marian started his return journey, girl in tow. Novak sighed, dismayed. He didn’t need some doctor who didn’t know him or what he did how best to deal with this tiny inconvenience. Hell, delaying his practice was more of an inconvenience than his leg. 

“I’m fine,” Novak insisted upon the arrival of Evelyn and Marian. Now he wished that Boris was here to get the two off his back. 

“Where is it?” Evelyn asked, ignoring the previous statement of the Serbian. She knew tennis players. Hell, if it were her, she’d be saying the same thing. “Look, I know this is you’ve got a job to do, but it’s my job to keep you healthy so you can keep doing that job, so tell me what’s going on, and I’ll be out of your hair,” she sighed at the hesitation of the man in front of her. 

“Really, I’m fine, just a cramp,” he repeated stubbornly. 

“Lynn, you watch practice, make sure this idiot really is okay,” Marian ordered. “If you can of course,” he added as an afterthought.

“This is not needed,” Novak grimaced, walking back to the baseline. 

Novak saw Marian murmur something to Felix’s sister, and she nodded and laughed in response, taking a seat on the benches that separated the practice courts from one another. Marian proceeded to hit Novak groundstrokes, moving him around the court as much as he could. Evelyn watched Novak’s movements closely, playing special attention to his upper left leg. When he got too low, there was a quiver, and sometimes a wince, barely noticeable, but there. 

“Stop,” Evelyn commanded, standing up and walking towards Novak’s side of the net. Novak rolled his eyes, turned towards her. 

“I’m fine, really,” Novak whined, looking at Marian as if he would get her out of this. Marian shrugged at him, then directed his attention back to Evelyn. 

“Right there,” Evelyn stated, pointing to his left leg. Novak simply stared at her. “I can see that it’s bothering you, let me tape it or something.”

“I appreciate the concern, but it really is okay,” Novak pressed. Evelyn hopped the net like she had done a million times growing up, stopped, murmured something to Marian, who nodded and smiled before she left the courts. As soon as she was gone, Marian glared at his student. If looks could kill, there was a serious chance that Novak would be dead right now. “What?” Novak asked defensively. His coach just shook his head, grumbling something to himself before going back to practice. 

***

“Hello,” Ari sang when Evelyn entered the office. He was organizing one of the physician bags. He liked to do that she’d noticed. He was very organized in everything he did, by far the most anal of the group. His schedule was immaculate, and his office looked like a permanent one, not one that was thrown together for two weeks a year before moving on to the next tournament. 

“Hey Ari,” Evelyn threw back, grabbing the schedule and walking into her office. In twenty minutes, she was supposed to meet Adrian Mannarino from France. After five minutes of inputting all pre-arranged meetings into her phone, she stood again and pinned the paper back onto the door. 

“Rough morning?” Ari asked, standing across the room from her now, looking at his own schedule. Evelyn nodded. It hadn’t been ‘rough’ so much as frustrating. She knew tennis, she knew tennis players, and she knew the best ways to keep them on the top of their games. She hadn’t spent five years of her life to become a PT just to have people she was trying to help ignore her. “Good luck with your next session,” he called after her as she was leaving the building again. She couldn’t hide the smile that appeared at his encouraging words, even if they were small, it was nice to know that the people she worked side by side with appreciated her. 

***

At 4:45, Evelyn’s phone buzzed, and she pulled it out to see a text from Garrett.

Garrett Keane: Hey Ev your sched just got mixed up. Djokovic in your office at 6:30 Brands moved to 5:10 on court 7 and Young at 5:45 court 12. I’m taking Davydenko. We’re going out for drinks at end of the night session too, you still in?

Evelyn typed out a quick response, saying of course she was in for a drink, and thanks for letting her know. In reality she was a little frazzled over the whole thing, but there wasn’t much she could do about it, and it wasn’t Garrett’s fault. She guessed it was Marian, and maybe it would be just Marian, asking advice, or just asking how her dad was, they had been close before kids got in the way. 

After taping up a shoulder and giving a few tips on how to relax the muscles, Evelyn taped up fingers for Donald Young, and the two had a long conversation about the benefits of different overgrips. At six, Evelyn was walking back to the office, she stopped to watch a few points of the Raonic match on the big screens, and after two games, she proceeded to her original destination. She greeted Luca fondly when she entered, and he responded with an equally warm reception. 

“Got a meeting with the big guy in five, huh?” Luca asked rhetorically. He obviously knew she did, and it really wasn’t a very interesting topic. She shrugged in response. 

“How was your day?” Evelyn asked Luca, sitting down in one of several empty chairs. 

“It was good, very busy today. It keeps it interesting though, right?”

“Right,” Evelyn agreed. “You get called on court at all today?”

“Once, for Pouille. Wrist was bothering him. Not much I could do though,” Luca shrugged. He’d been working as a tour physician for seven years, and was the one they called most often to do an on court assessment. Most of the time it was just re-wrapping something, but Luca also had to recommend to players if they should finish the match or not, which wasn’t always an easy job. 

“Did he win?” Evelyn asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

“Nah, he lost to a Serb, Lajovic I think. He put up a hell of a fight though,” Luca nodded. 

“That’s all you can do some days,” she agreed, pushing herself up and out of the chair. 

When Marian walked into her office alone, Evelyn wasn’t surprised. She invited him to take a seat, which he did, and they made small talk for the next ten or so minutes until he got to the point. 

“I worry about Novak. He’s doing so well, and he works hard for it. I want to make sure his leg really is okay,” Marian admitted. Evelyn understood his doubt, and she genuinely wished that she could help, but they both knew they were going to need the cooperation of Novak if they were gonna get anywhere. And she told him that. And he listened. 

“Novak doesn’t want to show weakness, especially to people he doesn’t know,” Marian revealed. “If you get to know him, maybe he can let you help.”

“I don’t really think that he wants to get to know me,” Evelyn pointed out. What she didn’t say was that she didn’t feel exactly inclined to get to know Novak either. Helping players get back on the court and stay there was one thing, but working outside of work to help a guy who didn’t want her help, she didn’t know if she wanted that. 

“He doesn’t need to know the plan. We do this without him knowing,” Marian grinned.

And that’s how she ended up at dinner with Novak Djokovic, Marian Vajda and Boris Becker instead of out for a drink with the other physicians. Boris and Marian both knew her father, so there was an easy conversation topic, along with Felix, who they were all very interested in. Evelyn wished she’d thought to bring Felix along. 

“Your brother’s just about the only real hope for American men’s tennis,” Djokovic joked, making Evelyn grimace. 

“We’ve got some guys around,” Evelyn disagreed, looking more at her salad than trying to look at Novak. 

“Ryan Harrison’s training with Andy Roddick,” Boris agreed, making the situation even more uncomfortable for Evelyn. The only thing that could possibly make this conversation worse would be Marian asking a further question on the subject, so she avoided it by throwing out a question about Noah, Boris’ oldest son who was between Felix and Evelyn in age. 

Boris appreciated the fact that she remembered his son, who she’d only met once at some terrible tennis gala when they were both kids. Boris told her all about his kids, and what they were doing, and she genuinely enjoyed hearing about them. Then Marian got on about his daughter, Nicole, and the rest of dinner went off rather painlessly. 

“Tell Roy I say hello,” Boris made Evelyn promise before she could leave. 

“And Felix,” Marian added. “You have to get him to come show Nole here how to play tennis,” he joked, slapping Novak’s back as if to insure the man knew he was kidding.

“I’m going to see him right now,” Evelyn smiled. “I’ll make sure to tell him for you,” she added, stepping into the street to wave down a cab. 

Evelyn felt a hand placed on her shoulder, and she turned to look at Novak, who smiled politely. “No need,” Novak told her. “Felix and I are in the same hotel, you can come with me.”

Marian smiled covertly before looking away to the black car that was rolling up to the sidewalk now. His plan was working. 

“Ladies first,” Novak motioned Evelyn into the car after he had opened the door. She smiled in response, and slid into the car, with him sliding in next.

“Thank you,” Evelyn smiled at Novak when the door closed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a terribly exciting chapter, I'm trying to build up to the romance aspect, and develop some of the other characters as well, but I promise I'm getting there. I didn't use a flash forward thing in this chapter, but if you liked that in the first chapter, I can work more of those in! Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, and I will hopefully be updating soon!

“Wait, stand there, I wanna trick Felix,” Novak grinned as he approached Felix’s hotel door with Evelyn. He gave her a mischievous grin, and proceeded to knock on Felix's door, Evelyn staying a few doors back. Novak could hear rustling within the room, and soon the door opened. Felix opened the door, leaning casually against the door frame. 

"Nole, what are you doing here?" Evelyn could hear Felix ask. She wondered what this trick of his would be. Nole hesitated for a moment before shaking his head in defeat. 

"I've got nothing," he laughed, looking over to Evelyn. Felix looked in her direction as well, clearly confused by Novak's odd behavior. 

“That was your plan?” Evelyn complained, approaching the door of her brother’s hotel room now. “To not have a plan and come up with something brilliant in point two second when he opened the door?” She accused, though a laugh escaped her lips, making the complaint much less aggressive. “Brilliant.”

“Hey,” Novak whined, mocking hurt, but a smile peaked out from behind the frown he was trying to keep plastered on. 

“Um,” Felix interrupted, looking between the two with obvious confusion. 

“Marian insisted I come to dinner, and we came back together,” Evelyn stated as if it was the most natural and obvious thing in the world. “He also said that you should teach Novak how to play tennis,” she smiled, slipping past her brother into his room, which was clean to the point where it was just unnatural, but she expected nothing less from Felix. He was always neat. Everything about him, from his handwriting, to the way he kept his living quarters organized, all the way to his tennis game. 

“You saw Marian once, and got invited to dinner?” Felix complained. “I see Marian like, once a month, at least, and all he says is to tell dad hi for him.”

“He loves her more than he loves me too,” Novak nodded sympathetically at Felix. Evelyn rolled her eyes at this accusation. Marian clearly cared about Novak the most out of the three. He didn’t spend seven days a week 50 weeks a year training with either Evelyn or Felix, and he wouldn’t do that for someone he didn’t care about. No one would. 

“You win some you lose some,” Evelyn shrugged, playing along with the statement. “Anyway, how’s Josie?”

Felix glared at her, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Who’s Josie?” Novak asked, looking between the two siblings. Felix remained tight-lipped, not wanting to admit to either Novak or Evelyn anything about Josie. 

“Josie is his almost girlfriend,” Evelyn divulged, grinning at her brother, who threw his hands in the air at the statement. 

“She is not!” He complained, falling back against the bed. 

“She trains in Florida with him, and she’s a year older,” Evelyn further explained to Novak, who was smiling at the blush on Felix’s face. 

“EVELYN!” Felix complained loudly. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Evelyn laughed, clearly not sorry at all. What were siblings for if it wasn’t for embarrassing them?

"Hey, can you practice with me tomorrow?" Felix asked. Evelyn couldn't help but smile at the inquisition. 

"Can we do it at 8:30? I have an appointment at 10 with some girl from Yemen," Evelyn asked. She figured an hour practice and half an hour for her to clean up would work. 

"Does 8 work? I wanna do half an hour on serve," Felix bargained. Both siblings seemed to have forgotten That Novak was sitting in the room with them until he cleared his throat, both turning their heads to seem him.

"I have an hour of practice time on practice court three tomorrow, and as much as I love Boris and Marian, they're not as quick as they used to be."

Felix stared at him dumbly. 

"Really?" Felix asked after the offer had hung in the air for a few seconds. He looked at Evelyn as if making sure it was okay that he practiced with Novak instead of her. She grinned at him to show her approval, and Felix looked back at Novak and nodded, "Yeah, of course."

The three threw around steady conversation for the next hour, until Evelyn decided to bail and get some sleep.

“I’m gonna get up and go on a run tomorrow, so I should hit the hay. Have fun at practice tomorrow,” she yawned, standing up and stretched her arms above her head. A thought struck her, and she turned to Novak and added, “and seriously, watch that leg. I can tape it up in a minute if you need it, which even if you don’t you should still do it.”

Novak shook his head, clearly still steadfast on his decision. Evelyn rolled her eyes, unsatisfied with his lack of cooperation, but she shrugged it off, and went to her hotel room instead of pursuing the subject. 

***

At 8:43 AM, Evelyn stepped into the hotel lobby, checking her phone’s stopwatch to see her time. With a time of 38:45, she couldn’t complain. That was what, 7 and a half minutes per mile, that wasn’t bad for a girl who didn’t run. She smiled at the concierge and continued up to her room, stripping and stepping into the shower as soon as it warmed up. 

By the time she stepped out, it was 9, and she slipped on a Nike racerback and a pair of clean three quarters length leggings. She was thankful that as a PT she had no dress code, she was supposed to be working with the players versus fixing them up on court like Luca, who had to wear the same boring polo and khaki pants every day. That wasn’t nearly as comfortable, and was way hotter than what Evelyn got to wear. 

Once inside the grounds, and inside the pathetic office, Ro was lounging on one of the chairs facing the entrance, and looked up to greet her. 

“Good morning, Evelyn,” he nodded formally. Maybe he just wasn’t quite awake yet. He didn’t have his usual cup of coffee in hand. 

“Morning, Ro,” she replied pleasantly. She started walking past him, but he stopped her before she could. She wasn’t feeling particularly well, but she chalked it up to the run, and she didn’t want to stop and talk necessarily, but she did. 

“Steve wants to talk to you,” he informed her, looking more awake now, like remembering to tell her had given him energy. 

Evelyn let her head fall back and she stared at the ceiling with contempt. She didn’t want to talk to Steve. All Steve ever had to say was things that she did not want to hear. She didn’t even want to think about what terrible ploy she would be put up to if she did go and talk to him. On the other hand, he was her boss technically, and she knew she had to go and talk to him.

“Fuck me,” Evelyn muttered to herself, but Ro had clearly heard, and laughed at her anguish. “Fuck you,” she added, giving a pointed look in his direction. This only encouraged him. 

“You should go,” he pointed out. “Don’t wanna put it off, just get it done.”

Evelyn knew he was right, so she dropped her bag in her office and begrudgingly went to find Steve. 

When she finally did find Steve, he was entirely too excited to see her. 

“Just the girl I wanted to see!” He cheered, pulling her into a hug that she did not particularly want. It wasn’t that Steve was a terrible person or anything, but he was just… off somehow. He was too nice, and it kind of made her feel like he would murder her while she slept or something. He hadn’t to date though, and it had been about ten years, so… 

“Hey Steve,” Evelyn responded with a forced smile. “What did you need?”

“I wanted to see how things were going? First time on tour not playing, you know? How are you liking it?”

Evelyn was about 100% sure that was not why he had called her here, but she appreciated the sentiment to some degree, and went along with it. 

“It’s strange, but you know, I’m glad that I can still be involved with the sport somehow.”

Steve nodded and let the silence hang for a moment before he brought up what Evelyn was sure was the real reason that she was here. 

“We think it’s amazing that you’re trying to get tennis players back on the court. In fact, we have a booth this year all about getting involved with tennis again, for people in all situations, and we were wondering if you’d do a question panel this weekend promoting it.”

“I’m flattered that you thought of me, but I really don’t think I’m the best choice,” she deflected. Her internal monologue was a bit more severe: no, no fucking way. Not fucking happening, over my dead body will I do that. Obviously she couldn’t say those things to Steve though, so a simple, no thank you would have to do. “You know who I think would be great for that though?” Evelyn asked, not waiting for a response before she answered her own question before Steve could argue. “Tommy! Tommy Haas, is the perfect guy for that. An amazing athlete, beating the odds, thriving right now after his injury and he got himself back on the court. I think he’d be more what you’re going for, the whole: you can come back from anything, and he’s an older player too.”

“I hadn’t thought of Tommy,” Steve nodded, thinking the suggestion over. She felt a little guilty for throwing him under the bus, but… Better Tommy than her. And anyway, Tommy would draw a better crowd than she could. “That’s a great idea. I’ll talk to him about it.”

“I think that Luca is going to check in with him later today, I can pass the message along for you,” she offered, happy to do whatever it took to get out of this. 

Steve happily went along with this, and Evelyn left feeling victorious. A little guilty that she’d forced this on Tommy without him knowing, but still, pretty damn good. 

***

Lunch in the players lounge was always dangerous, because she ran the risk of her dad, but she also got food that was actually cooked for you instead of food that had been sitting in a case for the last ten years. 

Today was a particularly good day to people watch. There was a girl who looked entirely too short to be playing tennis professionally, but then again, Evelyn was only 5’9, not short, but just slightly below average for a female pro tennis player. It didn’t matter anymore though. 

“Table for one?” a voice laughed from behind, and Evelyn turned to see her brother, hair wet, fresh t-shirt and jeans, he must have just showered. Evelyn honestly had no idea how Felix got away with just hanging around so much after big tournaments. When she finished junior grand slams, or any tournament, it was right back to training. Hitting the courts every waking hour, that’s how it always felt. 

Maybe it was just because Felix was more of a natural than she had been. God, Evelyn thought, she needed to leave this behind. 

“You’re a real dick sometimes, you know that?” Evelyn whispered, looking away from her brother and back at the sandwich that she had only taken a few biters of in front of her. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Felix laughed, sitting himself down across from her. “You done with that?” He questioned, looking at the sandwich that his sister had left on the plate in front of her. She pushed the plate away from her, signaling that he could have the rest of it, and he dug in immediately.

“I have to go,” Evelyn stated, pushing back from the table and walking with purpose. A headache plagued her skull, and she felt a desperate need to be alone in a quiet and dim office. Felix didn’t object, but simply nodded a goodbye. 

Evelyn walked in long strides deliberately to the office. 

“It looks like it’s been a rough morning,” Garrett commented when Evelyn walked past him. 

“Headache,” she responded quietly. Garrett followed her into her office, where she dropped into her chair. 

“Ev,” Garrett started in a quiet tone, hoping not to further agitate her headache. “It’s 12:30 right now. Go back to the hotel, get some sleep, and we’ll cover you for the rest of the day.”

Evelyn pulled in a deep breath, and released it, and repeated. There was a fire in her mind, and she was doing everything she could to keep herself from crying. Garrett’s words we’re barely registering with her, and she tried to focus in, but it didn’t seem to be working. 

“Go,” Garrett insisted. 

Garrett escorted Evelyn outside the grounds and into a car that would take her back to the hotel, where Garrett had instructed her to rest, and feel better. Evelyn appreciated the backing from him, and when she got to her room, she fell into the bed, crawled under the covers and passed out, blackness relieving the shooting pain in her head. 

***

At 5:19, Evelyn woke up from her ‘nap’ feeling relieved. 

She knew Garrett would kill her for it, but she headed back to the grounds. If nothing else, she wanted to thank him, and let him know she was feeling better. Upon arrival at the office, she saw that her schedule had been cleared, and a note was posted on the door of her ‘office’. She took the note down, no one would be coming in to make an appointment this late, and if they were, she could handle them. 

She found it curious that no one was in the building. Maybe they’d all gone out to dinner, or maybe they were all just busy taking care of people’s health. Inside the office, she found a note on her desk, from Garrett. 

Ev,

Hope you feel better, and remember, if you ever need us to cover you, we will. We’re a family here.

Garrett

It was a sweet gesture, and she appreciated it. She would make sure to extend the offer to the others as well. After falling into her chair and drawing out a schedule for tomorrow, she heard the front door open, and she stood and peaked her head out of the office, fully expecting one of the other physicians to be standing in the entryway, but what she saw surprised her. 

“Novak, what are you doing here?” Evelyn asked, cocking her head just slightly as she wandered further out of her office to meet him. 

“Your brother and Marian convinced me to come see you, so I could have you check out my leg,” he responded, walking further into the building. He showed no signs of a limp, which she didn’t expect in the first place, but you never knew. 

“Come on in then,” she invited, and directed him to her informal office space and followed him in. 

Novak told her about the pain in his upper thigh, and how it was only when he went for certain shots, not constant, but he didn’t want to agitate the muscle further, so he had come to her. Or Marian had made him go to her. That was a more accurate representation of what happened most likely. 

“Lucky for you, I have just the thing to fix you up,” Evelyn announced, shuffling through her bag until she found what she was looking for. “It’s probably just a pulled muscle, nothing serious, and it shouldn’t affect your game too much. It might be sore for a few days, but taping it up will help by keeping it in place and keeping it stable.”

After she finished her mini speech, she looked at Novak, who was wearing jeans. 

“Can you just,” she motioned to his belt before looking away again, blushing a little at the suggestion even though it was purely professional. He laughed along with it, but followed her instructions. As soon as she had access, she wrapped the appropriate areas, told Novak to come in tomorrow morning so she could re-wrap it, and let him put his pants back on. 

“Thank you,” he said, sounding genuinely grateful. She was honestly impressed he had even come at all, but attributed it to Marian forcing him to go. As she watched him walk away, she couldn’t help but blush at the idea that had hit her when she was first wrapping his leg. Novak Djokovic had a nice ass.


	3. The Stairs

"Where are we going?" Evelyn complained, following after Felix through the hotel stairways. He always took stairs if given the option, claiming it was good for his footwork. Evelyn was pretty sure it was to torture her though.

"It'll be fun, I promise," Felix insisted, taking the steps two at a time and not seeming to tire in the least.  
"See, you say that, but you're a 15 year old boy. I'm a 23 year old girl. Our outlooks on fun are very different."

"Nole's gonna be there," Felix responded light-heartedly. "At the very least you'll have eye-candy."

Evelyn's nose scrunched up at this suggestion, and her cheeks grew warmer as she blushed ever so slightly. 

"First off, never say eye-candy ever again," she almost giggled. "Second, I do not think Novak Djokovic is eye-candy."

"Oh, come on," Felix pushed, stopping momentarily to look back at her and smirk, “Nole is hot.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me here Fe?” Evelyn joked, raising her eyebrows at his claim about the other man. To be fair though, he was right. Not that he needed to know that. The two continued up two more flights of stairs where Felix led the way out of the stairwell, through the hall and to a door. Evelyn could hear people inside, not the sounds of a party, but maybe a more casual get together of some sort. A casual get together with Novak Djokovic and her brother. An interesting mix for sure. 

Felix knocked, and soon, the door swung open, revealing a few people sprawled around the room, playing video games, talking and sitting around. At the door a tall and handsome man greeted Felix and Evelyn, welcoming them in without question. 

Evelyn recognized a few players, but there couldn’t have been more than ten people in the room, most of them crowded around the couch and TV screen.

With Felix now distracted by a tennis player the way that a cat is distracted by string or shiny things, Evelyn considered opting out and just leaving, until realizing how pathetic it would look if she left within the same minute she had arrived. She didn't know these people, she wasn't part of their world anymore. 

"Evelyn," a voice greeted, and she looked to her right to see Novak leaning casually against a wall, eyes flickering between her and the screen of the TV. 

"Hey," she nodded in response. "I hope I'm not crashing the party, Felix kind of dragged me here," she laughed, taking a quick peak at whatever was playing on the TV screen. Novak laughed at this, shaking his head at the suggestion that she was intruding.

"I told him to bring you along," Novak shrugged casually, as if she should have know this. He acted as if they'd been friends for years, versus the reality of them not being friends at all, and just meeting days ago. "Rafa gives you high praise, I figured I might give you a shot too."

"Rafa would give high praise to the girls selling frozen lemonade by Rod Laver," Evelyn joked, referencing to the famous arena that they both knew well. At this statement Novak smiled, knowing full well that his friend would praise just about anyone. That's just how Rafa was.

"Just wanted to ensure you felt welcome back on tour," Novak remarked, trying to casually slip in the 'back on tour' part of the sentence, but Evelyn caught on right away. 

"Yeah, thanks," she nodded in response, her answer almost guarded now, worried he wanted to delve into the past. They all did. The coaches, commentators, pressers, it seemed like the world wanted to peek into her past, the only place that Evelyn wanted to get away from. An impossibility. Choosing tour life was a poor decision for her mental health it seemed, not even a month in, and she was already going crazy. Evelyn pulled Felix to her side the moment that he started walking past her. 

"Fe, hey!" She smiled, a little too excited to see him. "¿Por qué tú dices a la gente estas cosas?" Evelyn added almost as if it were a side note, in a much more upbeat tone than she would normally use. 

"You have a problem," Felix smiled back sarcastically, not even bothering to mask his answer in Spanish. "Debes hablarlo sobre," he added as an afterthought. “Y yo le dije que nada, imbécil.”

"Sisters," Felix shook his head, laughing the situation off with Novak. “Oni su svi ludi,” Felix noted, in a language that his sister couldn’t understand, but Novak clearly did by the smile that appeared on his face. “Su prima es Ana Ivanovic, él vio el partido en Australia, seno un idiota,” Felix stated before leaving the two once more. 

"I really need to get on learning Spanish, huh?" Novak joked, focusing on Evelyn once more.

"You didn't miss much," Evelyn promised, rolling her eyes at her brothers dramatics, but she did feel slightly guilty for her accusation now. He was right.

"I got the part about Ana, and Australia. That was one hell of a match," he noted. 

Evelyn smiled uncomfortably and nodded in thanks, and Novak tilted his head to the side and his mouth opened in an 'o' shape, and he glanced around and in a quiet voice asked, "Did you not want people knowing about you playing?"

"It's not a secret," Evelyn shrugged, looking at the ground more than the man standing in front of her. 

"So you lived with Marian?" Novak inquired, switching the topic, quite obviously. Evelyn couldn't say she didn't appreciate the switch of conversation.

"Briefly. I think I was about 11 at the time, and I lived with him for a few months. He's a good coach. Terrible language teacher though," she laughed, revealing a toothy grin at the memories. 

"I can't imagine Marian dealing with an 11 year old American," he chuckled in response. 

"It was definitely interesting," Evelyn conceded. She was surprised that he didn't ask why, but then again, maybe he knew. Or maybe he understood tennis dads. 

"The wrap helped, I think," Novak admitted after a pause in their conversation. Professional Evelyn returned, and she smiled.

"If anything's ever bothering you, come to me, and at least let me try to help. Better safe than sorry," she said a little wistfully. "Me or any of the guys that is," she added. 

"Thanks," he nodded. "You're much prettier than Marcel," Novak joked, referencing Luca by his last name. A blush crept onto her face and she shook her head lightly. 

"Some heavy competition I've got there," Evelyn giggled. 

The conversation faded out, and soon, Novak was across the room with some other Serbian player. Dusan might be his name, she wasn't sure. 

She'd been here long enough. It was nine, she had time to go back to her room, have a snack, read, and then sleep. 

Evelyn followed this plan, sneaking out without Felix noticing, or maybe he did and took pity. Either way, she left, and spent a successful night hiding away in her room. 

***

Evelyn was returning to her room after a morning workout session. The elevator seemed to be taking days, and she finally opted for stairs instead. She had never been patient. She started up the stairs at a slow pace, in no hurry to get where she was headed. She still had her headphones in, and so when she felt a tap on her shoulder, she wasn't expecting it, and panicked. Cautiously she turned to see her brother's best friend it seemed, Djokovic. 

He laughed at the sight of her, she had a deer in the headlights look to her when she first turned, and she had now doubled over, breathing a sigh of relief, and pulling out the earbuds. 

"I've always been scared of being murdered in one of these staircases," she admitted, not caring how absurd it sounded in the moment. Novak titled his head slightly, saw that she was serious, and burst into a fit of laughter. 

He tried to string together a sentence to question the statement, but couldn't because each time he got a word out he would start laughing again. 

"It's not that funny!" Evelyn insisted, annoyed with his laughter, as she started climbing the stairs again. 

"Wait, wait," he gasped, still out of breath from laughing. Wow, an hour of running would probably pose no problem to him, yet he couldn't catch his breath over his laughter. Maybe his opponents should just tell him jokes between games. Evelyn obliged, stopping and turning once more to face the smiling Serb. "Sorry, sorry," he apologized, not sounding sorry at all. "I was going to say that my shoulder has been bothering me, and I wanted to make an appointment or something."

"What about your shoulder?" She asked, climbing down a few steps to be closer to the shoulder in question. 

"Right here," he said, reaching for his left shoulder blade. "It's just a constant ache, and it's been getting to my toss." 

Evelyn tilted her head, thinking briefly before stepping one more step down and motioning for him to turn around with her hand. He did as she instructed without question, to the pleasant surprise of Evelyn. 

Evelyn lightly pressed several different areas of the shoulder. By the neck, she applied more pressure, looking for possible inflammation, or tearing, but there was no evidence of the sort. 

"Sranje!" He hissed, his shoulders tensing at the compression. Evelyn immediately drew her hand back.

"Sorry," she apologized quietly, putting her hand back in a different position and pressing.

"No, it felt good," he shook his head seriously. 

Evelyn smiled to herself, shaking her head. 

"I'm free any time after four thirty. Come in whenever and we'll get it sorted out."

Novak turned and looked at her, perplexed. 

"You're going to be just fine, it's nothing to worry about, just a slight stress irritation,” Evelyn assured. 

“Really?” Novak questioned, happy with the news. 

Evelyn glanced around and suddenly realized how completely strange it was to be having this conversation, or any really, in the stairwell of their hotel building. 

“I’ll see you tonight then?” she asked, stepping up the next stairs, looking back to see him nod. Evelyn smiled briefly at him before proceeding with her climb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it has taken me so long to finish this. I didn't really know where I wanted to go with it. I'm getting more direction, and more time. Once my AP test is over, hopefully I can dedicate more time to writing. Hope you're all doing well, and thanks for reading.
> 
> Also, I wrote all of the Spanish in this chapter with my knowledge of the language from 2 years of class, and some google translate. Below are some basic translations, they're not spot on, so sorry about that. 
> 
> ¿Por qué tú dices a la gente estas cosas? - Why do you tell people these things? (Evelyn to Felix talking about her time on tour as a pro)
> 
> Debes hablarlo sobre & Y yo le dije que nada, imbécil.- You should talk about it & And I didn't say anything, moron. (Felix to Evelyn)
> 
> Oni su svi ludi - They're all crazy (Felix to Nole on sisters, this is Croatian)
> 
> Su prima es Ana Ivanovic, él vio el partido en Australia, seno un idiota - His cousin is Ana Ivanovic, he watched the match in Australia, he's not an idiot.


	4. The Pull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The top ten player pull.

"Hey," Evelyn greeted, not looking up from her laptop screen when Nole entered the room. "I'm gonna finish this email really fast, and then we'll figure you out," she promised, finally looking up to give a quick smile before returning to furious typing.

"What's up?" Nole asked, falling into a chair in the far corner of the room. Evelyn bit her lip in concentration, ignoring the question momentarily and clicking the send button before closing her laptop. 

"The usual," Evelyn shrugged, standing up and walking out the door. 

"You look nice," Novak noted, she was dressed in jeans and a tank top, a different look than the work out clothes he was used to seeing her in. She looked back at him and grinned.

"I've really set the bar low for myself, haven't I?" She laughed. 

"At least you own something other than athletic attire. This is my entire wardrobe," he joked, motioning to his polo and shorts. Evelyn shook her head, the smile refusing to fade as she led him out of the building and carefully through the grounds to the locker rooms. 

"Are you going to change and practice with me?" He teased, obviously confused by their new location. 

"We're going to sort out the huge knot in your shoulder," Evelyn corrected him, rolling her eyes. Upon arrival in a back room with a massage table, Novak looked at Evelyn, confused. "People focus on the serve shoulder, and forget the toss. It happens pretty frequently. If it gets ignored enough, it'll hurt, just like anything else," she explained, rifling through her shoulder bag until she pulled out a small bottle of massage oil. 

"Aren't there physiotherapists for that?" He asked warily. 

"Yes, they're also called physical therapists. PTs, whatever you wanna call it. I went to school for five years to become one," she smiled sarcastically. 

"I thought you were a tour physician," he frowned, brows furrowed as he considered this. 

"I'm the only year round PT employed by the ATP, but I'm not technically a tour physician, no."

"Impressive," he nodded in acceptance. He pulled his shirt over his head and laid down on the table, the easy procedure they were both used to. 

Neither of the pair spoke as Evelyn drizzled the oil on Novak's back. She removed the two rings she wore off her hands and set them next to her bag before rubbing the oil into Novak's back. 

Carefully, she kneaded his left shoulder, earning small groans from Novak when she pressed in the right spots. 

Half an hour was spent this way, Evelyn's fingers seemed to know precisely where to focus, and Novak could feel the shoulder completely relax with the attention. 

"How does that feel?" Evelyn asked, removing her hands at last, much to Novak's dismay. 

"Amazing, you're a miracle worker," he praised, sitting up and shifting his shoulders. A smile crossed his face with the lack of resistance. Evelyn just smiled and washed off her hands, eliminating excess oil before sliding the rings back on. Pulling her phone out of her back pocket she saw one new message from Felix. 

Felix: Wanna go to dinner? Dad's at an ITF meeting.

"I'm starving," Novak grumbled, more to himself than to Evelyn, but she picked up on it just the same. 

"Fe just invited me to dinner if you want to come," Evelyn offered nonchalantly. "I'm sure he'd be excited to see you."

Novak contemplated the offer before nodding his head in acceptance. 

"I have some sponsor stuff tomorrow though, so let's not get too crazy," he joked, smiling at his own humor.

***

Australian Open 2014: Reigning champion Novak Djokovic loses for first time in Melbourne since 2010 as the 'other' Swiss Stanislas Wawrinka advances

****

Evelyn shook her head at the title. Partially because she couldn't believe Novak had lost, but also because the tabloid called Stan the 'other Swiss'. Sure he was no Roger, but he deserved better than being the 'other Swiss'. 

****

****

Work went on though, and she strangely missed the Serbian who had frequented her life when he was still in the tournament. She blamed Felix for this though. 

At the conclusion of the tournament, 'the other Swiss' was the one holding the trophy, though she knew this would be of little consolation to Novak. Like Agassi said, "Being number two sucks".

***

Evelyn worked the Germany vs Spain Davis Cup first round, sad to see the US team team lose their first round across the globe. She knew Rafa must be upset over not playing for his country this year, but there were plenty of big players who just couldn't play this year, Isner and Djokovic among them. It was certainly a rough first round. 

Only days after, she was in France for the Open Sud de France. While she was kept busy, she missed the company of her colleagues, the other men spread out for various tournaments, around the country. She had not seen them since Australia, and would not be reunited until Indian Wells. There were of course other physicians and employees, but the camaraderie was not the same.

After France, she went to Rotterdam in the Netherlands, then France again, and finally in Mexico for a 500 event. She had been chosen because she could speak the native language, even though Dubai was closer to travel, but she would be closer to California for the next tournament, so it wasn’t all bad. 

March came, and she found herself re-united with all of her fellow tour physicians for a masters event, in her homeland no less. She's forgotten the convenience of being able to use your native tongue, and understand everything that was being said in passing. 

She made a point of going to see as many American matches as she could while they were still in the draw. With such a huge draw, even with four other people, there was still an overwhelming feeling at the beginning of the tournament. She liked the big draw, and new players, but she liked the familiarity of some parts as well, like 9AM practice with Rafa for warm up and warm downs. It was hot, unsurprising California weather, and she was once more grateful for the lesser expectations of dress code.

Between her conferencing four days into the tournament, Evelyn returned to the health center to look at an updated schedule, and grab a yogurt and some water from the communal fridge since she hadn't had time for lunch yet, and it didn’t look like she would be fitting it in soon either. 

In the offices, she saw no one, unsurprising considering how busy they'd been, but disappointing just the same. She wanted some form of human contact where she could talk about something besides professional terms and tennis. A rarity on tour it seemed. After grabbing a yogurt, she fell into a desk chair in the corner room, figuring she could at the very least have a few minutes of peace to eat with. 

Before she was able to take her first bite, the front doors opened, and she knew she should go to greet the visitor. With a frown, she set down the food and went to meet the guest, surprised to see a tall Serbian in the entrance. 

"Hey," Evelyn greeted after an uncomfortable pause, neither truly knowing what to say. 

"Hi,” he answered. 

Evelyn had no idea what to say. They generally had a buffer of Felix, or some sort of injury to talk about. 

“I was just having some yogurt, do you want one?” She offered, unsure of what else to say. “Garrett doesn’t eat gluten either, so we have gluten free,” she added.

“Yeah, thanks,” he nodded, following her to the fridge, where she grabbed strawberry and blueberry, offering Novak the choice. He took the blueberry, smiling at her in thanks, then following her into the corner room where her own snack was stashed. 

They both sat down, and Novak broke the silence by saying, “Felix played well in Morocco.”

Evelyn scoffed at the irony. “Try telling that to him,” she challenged. Felix had been furious with himself after losing the tournament. Clay wasn’t his best surface, but he didn’t use that as any excuse. He’d kept it together for long enough to get off court, but after she heard of his meltdown. Felix was a perfectionist, and he was his own biggest critic, always. In the locker room, rackets had been thrown against the cement floor, and tears had been shed, only recovering enough to shower, sign some tennis balls, smile and escape to the airport for an early morning flight. It was still a taboo subject between them.

Novak looked confused, cocking his head to one side. “What?”

“He wasn’t very happy with how he played in the final,” Evelyn answered. 

“It’s not all about the final,” he argued, like he could change Felix’s mind even though he wasn’t present. “He played like a pro for the rest of the tournament.”

Evelyn shrugged, it was true, but she understood Felix’s desire to play better, work harder, to win. She knew what his coach put him through every day, and though Felix was closer to their father than she had ever been, she knew that some nights he went to bed and wondered if this was all worth it because of the pushing he faced. 

“You’re okay, right?” She changed the subject quickly, without intent, suddenly realizing that he might need her professional attention. 

“Wha- oh, yes fine. Just stopping by to say hello,” Novak assured. “Seeing if maybe you can come to my practice tomorrow morning, like for Rafa. Marian thinks it helps,” he justified. 

Evelyn felt the twitch of her lips give away her satisfaction with the inquiry. She thought about scheduling, but realized that for Novak, her schedule would be rearranged by some higher power. Top ten players had that pull. Without further questions, she nodded in affirmation.

***

After dinner that night, Evelyn got a call, answering on the second ring. 

“Hey Fe,” she greeted, walking towards her hotel, only a few blocks from where the restaurant had been.

“Hey Lynnie,” he returned, sounding tired. He probably was tired, it was around midnight there, she figured he just wasn’t going to call today. 

“What’s up? How was your day?”

Felix went through his day in surprising detail, outlining school, and a long practice after, homework, then a date with Josie that he insisted wasn’t a date. Evelyn asked how she was doing, and Felix revealed that she was well, and had just won a USTA tournament in Florida. More small talk led to Evelyn mentioning Novak. 

Felix’s interest peaked, and he instructed her to pass a greeting on to his friend for him. Evelyn promised to do so. 

“So he just came to see you?” Felix asked after a brief pause. 

“Yeah, he wanted me to come out to his practice tomorrow,” Evelyn answered, now leaning against the outside of her hotel building, not wanting to leave the pleasant outside air, or to disrupt the building’s peace by bringing her phone conversation inside. 

“Lynnie, he’s so into you,” Felix snickered. 

“What,” Evelyn choked, laughing at the ridiculous accusation. 

“Oh come on, Novak wouldn’t just randomly seek you out and ask you to come to practice, he’s in perfect shape, he has no ailments, he’s the number two player in the world Lynn, and instead of going to train when he got to a masters tournament, he came to see you. He’s totally into you.”

“You know who else did the exact same thing? The number one player in the world. Are you telling me Rafa’s into me to?” She challenged, rolling her eyes at the suggestion. 

“Yeah, but did Rafa come to you, or did Toni? Because had Marian found you and asked you, then it’s a different story, but Nole sought you out, ate yogurt with you, and then asked you to come to his practice.”

“Because I offered him gluten free yogurt, he was just being polite!”

“I bet he practices with his shirt off for you,” Felix snickered, ignoring what his sister was saying completely. 

“I’m hanging up on you,” Evelyn threatened. 

“I’m just saying, if I was a girl, I would be all over that,” Felix said seriously. Evelyn sighed dramatically and hung up. 

***

Felix was right about one thing, Novak eventually shed his shirt due to heat. It was warm out, no doubt, and Evelyn couldn’t blame him. He did have a nice body, she couldn’t deny that. Tall and lean, but muscular. 

Mostly, Evelyn stayed with Marian on the sidelines, every so often throwing out an idea to Marian, and Marian would shout it out to Novak. Evelyn excused herself early from the practice, going to her appointment with Karlovic that was supposed to be earlier, but had been moved for Novak’s convenience. 

Evelyn went through her day like usual, but a small piece of her wondered about what Felix had said. It couldn’t be. At 12:10, there was a half an hour gap for her to eat. In the player center, she found food, and an empty table, happy to dine alone and figure out her schedule for the next few hours. 

Alone never seemed to last in these places though, and after a mere ten minutes of alone, a particular Serbian interrupted. 

“Evelyn,” he accosted, sitting down across from her without invitation. Not that she minded. 

“Hi Novak,” she nodded, closing the notebook that she had been scribbling in before he sat down to give him her attention. 

“I just found out I have a sponsorship dinner tonight, and I saw you, and I was thinking you should come,” he drawled, casually. 

Evelyn tried not to overreact, but Felix’s words kept spinning in her head. 

“What sponsor?” She asked curiously. 

“Seiko, they’re a watch brand,” he answered, holding up his wrist to reveal a sleek and expensive looking watch. 

“What’s the dress code for this function,” she questioned.

“Semi-formal,” he clarified. 

“Yeah, I think I can swing that,” she nodded, almost laughing to herself. 

“It starts at 7:30, I’ll come by your room at 7?” He asked, confirming with Evelyn that this worked. It would take a little rearranging, but it would be worth it. She loved an excuse to wear a nice dress and heels. 

“See you at 7,” Evelyn nodded, not bothering giving him her room number. He could figure it out with a little arm twisting. Top ten players had that pull.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a little filler-y, I promise I'm getting somewhere, and soon. Thanks for sticking with me through this!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn's life gets hectic.

"Outta here early?" Garrett asked as he saw Evelyn leaving the building with her bag slung over her shoulder.

"Dinner invite," she shrugged casually. This wasn't an unusual thing, physicians had a fairly free range of their time at night, but ultimately, they were on call 24/7 during a tournament. If a player decided they needed her at 2AM, she had to be there. It was never really an issue though, and she figured if someone was calling at that hour, they needed her. 

"Have fun," he called after her, and she waved and nodded in response. 

At the hotel, she rummaged through her clothes looking for semi-formal attire. The disadvantage of living out of a suitcase; very limited options. She picked out the bright blue dress she'd bought in France, a flirty length, with triangle cutouts around the zipper in the back, and the one pair of plain black heels she brought with her everywhere, paired with the lightly beaded black clutch that held her wallet and her phone. 

While she was working on makeup, her phone buzzed, signaling a call, which she answered without hesitation, clicking speaker-phone so she could finish her work. 

"Hello?" She answered, realizing she hadn't bothered to check caller ID. 

"Hey Lynnie, what's up?" Felix's voice sounded from the other side of the line. 

"Hey Fe!" She smiled, with more enthusiasm now. "I'm just getting ready for a dinner thing. What're you up to?"

"Just got off the courts. Frank worked me today," he admitted. Frank Bocello, one of the pros in Florida where Felix trained had a history of pushing his students to the limits, but he was kind, and friendly, and he knew when to stop. Evelyn had always liked training with him, though she generally only did when her father wasn't around. 

"How ya feeling?" She asked slowly as she carefully pulled a liquid eyeliner pen across her eyelid. 

"Like I want to take a nap," he replied candidly. "But anyway, what's your dinner thing? You going out with the dudes?" The question was more of an assumption, but it was a reasonable one. She and the other physicians generally went out to dinner at least once a week when they were all together. 

"Nah, I'm going to a sponsorship dinner thing with your boy Nole," she returned, ready for a 'I told you so' raving from her little brother. 

"Ayy," he giggled,clearly pleased with himself, for obvious reasons. "Congrats Lynn," he cheered, then after a moment added, "well maybe I should be congratulating him. You're quite the catch. He's lucky he landed a date with you."

Evelyn smiled at her brother's support, and screwed the cap back on her eyeliner tube. 

"I'm pretty sure we're just going as friends Fe. I'm not really looking to start something with a guy from another country who travels the world for most of the year," she chided, picking up her phone and moving to the main room of the hotel once more, slipping her shoes on in hopes of acclimating her feet. 

"Evelyn, you travel the world for most of the year," he countered. "Whatever though, have fun," he added before she could break in to correct him. On cue. There was a knock at the door, and Evelyn told her brother she had to go, promising to pass his hello along to Novak. 

"Hey," Evelyn grinned when she opened the door, revealing a handsome looking Novak in dark jeans, a button up and blazer. 

"You look great," he praised, casually looking her up and down. "You seem taller too," he chuckled, leading the way to the elevators. 

"I think I'm about 6'1 with these," she agreed, lifting one foot to emphasize her point by displaying the shoes. 

"You ladies are dedicated to those shoes," he murmured, sounding almost impressed. Rightfully so, 4 inch heels were no easy feight. 

At the event, there were many media outlets, and Seiko employees. Everyone wanted a piece of the man himself, making for an exceptionally boring night from Evelyn's standpoint. She understood of course, but she still spent most of the night talking off the record with some sports news reporter off in the corner while Novak was showered with attention. 

When it was finally coming to a close, she bid her new friend, whose name was Hailey, goodbye, and rejoined Novak as he spoke with a Seiko man. 

"Did you see any food there?" Novak questioned as soon as they got into the black car that would take them back to their hotel. 

"No," Evelyn shook her head, laughing at how serious he was being. 

"They promised me food, and now I'm starving," he cried, pouting falsely at her as if she could help him. 

"So let's get food," she answered him, the voice of reason. 

The driver detoured, and the pair found a quiet restaurant and shared dinner, idle chit chat actually quite interesting. Novak told her more about Serbia, and Monaco, and she expanded his knowledge of the US. Evelyn was disappointed to find that he was a basketball over baseball person, but she didn't have a passion for either, so the dispute was short lived. 

At the end of dinner, Evelyn could not say she regretted agreeing to the evening, though she was still a bit unsure of the whole thing. 

Back at the hotel, Novak walked Evelyn to her room, Evelyn thanking him for the night and locked herself away in the room before he could say or do anything more. She had been telling the truth when she'd told Felix she wasn't looking for something with a professional tennis player. 

***

"Hey Ev, You left your phone here all day," Luka informed her, not in a scolding way, but as a reminder. It had been a hectic morning, and she noticed the phones absence, but didn't have time to get it in between sessions. It was a nice break though, focusing just on the people and not on the phone. Here in the now type of day. 

"Thanks Luka," she nodded warmly. Things were winding down for the physicians, but as the only full time PT, Evelyn was still in high demand. She had made the time to see Isner and Querrey play doubles last night though, favoring the American duo over Novak's match. The atmosphere was great, and she definitely enjoyed it. 

When she found her phone, it was a mess of missed calls, texts and emails, which she tried to prioritize and sort through during her small open period. 

One of the last texts she opened was from Felix.

_Have you congratulated your boy on his win yet? ___

Evelyn scoffed, rolling her eyes at her brother's terminology, typing out a quick response. 

_I haven't seen YOUR boy since Friday. ___

Her focus was disrupted by Luka knocking on the door that was open, poking his head in and reminding her, "You have an appointment in the fitness center in five, don't you?" 

“Yeah, on my way now, thanks Luka,” she nodded, shoving her phone into the shoulder back she carried with her around the grounds that had basic supplies stored in it in case they were needed. She hated making people go out of their way to come to the health center just for a wrap or something simple. 

On the way to the fitness building, she passed a short brunette carrying a tennis bag that was about the same size as her. It looked like she was going to practice. Evelyn recognized the girl, and hesitated, before going for it, and touching her shoulder to grab her attention. 

“Hi,” the girl greeted shyly, obviously confused with the situation. Evelyn laughed dumbly at the whole thing before introducing herself. 

“Hi, I’m Evelyn I work as a PT for the, you know, it doesn’t matter, sorry. I just wanted to say that I saw your match the other day, and you played really well.”

“Thank you so much,” Lauren beamed in response, then looking Evelyn up and down. “This is totally weird, but have we met before? You look so familiar, and Evelyn, that’s not a name you hear every day. It just seems really familiar.” 

“I used to play on tour,” Evelyn conceded, smiling tightly, ready to run from the conversation. 

“Evelyn Abrams,” Lauren exclaimed, a little louder than she probably should have, because faces turned to see the commotion. “Sorry,” she apologized meekly, looking flustered, like she knew she’d done something wrong, though in reality, she had done nothing wrong. 

“Yeah,” Evelyn nodded, a tight-lipped smile on her face. “Look, I’m sorry, but I’m running close on time for an appointment with Tommy Haas, but really, you played so well,” she repeated, backing away towards her final destination. 

“Go, of course! Thank you so much!” Lauren smiled again, waving to Evelyn as she hurried off to her meeting. 

***

“What’s the prognosis doc?” Tommy asked as Evelyn inspected his shoulder carefully. 

“Tommy, I’m not a doctor,” she laughed, not looking up to meet his gaze. She felt comfortable with Tommy, they had both trained in Florida together, and she saw him whenever she visited Felix and her father, since he trained there as well. He was a good guy, and a hell of a player, but age had taken it’s toll on him. His shoulder gave him plenty of trouble these days, and it had been for a while now. It seemed to be one of those things that just was now. “There’s not a ton I can do for you, I mean, I can tape it up, and give you a massage to ease the ache, but…” she trailed off, not wanting to say the words they both knew she was thinking. 

"Oh how the tables have turned," Tommy teased, looking at her with humor glinting behind his eyes. 

"What’s that supposed to mean?” Evelyn laughed along with him, happy to be in good spirits. 

“As I remember, you were always begging a back rub off of anyone at the Academy,” he recalled, turning to see her reaction to the reminder. 

“Well, to be fair, I had a pretty decent serve,” Evelyn responded, shrugging her shoulders, which were no longer constantly aching from the work. It was a small price to pay though. 

“If I remember correctly, the fastest out there,” Tommy reminded her, grinning shamelessly, and giving her an elbow of encouragement, wishing the girl would accept that though her career was short, it had meant something. 

“That doesn’t last,” Evelyn reminded him. “Anyway, do you want a massage or not?” Evelyn prompted, standing patiently in front of him, waiting for an answer. 

“It’s lasted for what, six years now?” Tommy retorted, ignoring her question completely, and hopping off the table he’d been sitting on, grabbing his shirt that had been folded neatly into a perfect square earlier, and letting the folds fall out, pulling it over his head and stretching out casually. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Evelyn nodded, trying to sound annoyed, but in reality, she found the encouragement sweet. “Hey, good luck tonight,” she added, and Tommy opened his arms to her for a hug, which she gladly accepted. 

“Thanks Lynn,” he called after her as she left the room. She turned to wave one last time, happy to have had some time with Tommy. 

On to the next adventure, which would be watching whatever was on court two currently. 

On the way to the main grounds, Evelyn stopped by the health center to grab a light jacket. Now warm, and ready to face the world, stadium two was the goal. Not many people were out, it was around seven, and most players had already left, or were at dinner. Such was not the case with Novak Djokovic though. Novak was walking out of the media center when he saw Evelyn walking alone towards the main grounds. 

Novak jogged to catch up to her, the sound catching Evelyn’s attention, and making her turn briefly, enough to see the familiar figure coming towards her. She stopped walking, waiting for him, and when he did arrive, she continued her leisurely pace. 

“Nice match yesterday,” she commented, remembering Felix’s text earlier. 

“Thank you,” he grinned, bowing slightly, and laughing at his own strange gestures, Evelyn couldn’t help but join in, a smile cracking her face. 

“Where are you going?” Novak inquired, keeping pace with her just the same, not really caring where she was going. 

“Court two,” she answered vaguely, though not intentionally. 

“Stan and Roger are playing there right now, right?” Novak asked, more confirming what he already knew. He’d just seen the warm ups being televised inside the media center. 

“I’m not really sure, but that sounds right. Should be an exciting match,” Evelyn nodded. The only match she was dead set on attending was Tommy’s, but that wasn’t until 8:30, so she had some time to kill, and Roger Federer and Stan Wawrinka playing doubles wasn’t bad tennis by any means. 

“Mind if I tag along?” the Serb inquired. He reminded Evelyn of a puppy, wide eyes, friendly smile, just wanting company. She couldn’t turn him down, so she didn’t. Novak’s pass got them some killer front row seats, and Evelyn couldn’t say he was bad company either. 

Between the first and second sets, Felix called, but Evelyn couldn’t answer as a general decency to the people around her, instead opening snapchat and nudging Novak’s shoulder, holding her phone out to capture the picture of the two posing ridiculously. 

_Stan & Roger doubles match ___

she captioned the photo, sending it to her number one best friend, Felix. He’s been the one to get her hooked on the app originally, and now they shared some priceless moments and photos through it. A photo of what looked to be calculus homework came back from Felix, the caption reading 

_I hate you both ___

“What did I do?” Novak whined, looking to Evelyn with a pouty face that was too good not to share with Fe. “Hold that exact face,” Evelyn giggled, snapping the picture quickly, then captioning it with 

_He’s deeply offended ___

“What is this?” Novak asked, pointing to her phone where snapchat was open. “You don’t know what snapchat is?” She asked, incredulously. Sure he was from Serbia, but had he been living under a rock for the last year? Novak just shrugged in response. “Okay, well, it’s a picture, and you can write or draw on it, and then you can send it to any of your friends who use the app, but it disappears after a certain amount of time.” Evelyn considered going into more details, but decided that maybe this was enough for now. A new snap from Felix popped up, and she showed him the picture of a very unamused Felix, which read; 

_Oh cry me a river Nole ___

“He’s just bitter because he has to do math,” Evelyn reassured Novak. As the second set started, a snap from Josie showed up, and she opened it to see a picture of a flat screen TV that displayed a picture of her, pointing to her phone, and Novak leaning over to see what she was doing. 

_Tennis Channel’s only interest currently ___

Well fuck, Evelyn thought to herself.


	6. Company

_They're gonna care a lot more about real tennis than about this _, Evelyn reminded herself, shaking off the worry that plagued her.__

Stan and Roger went on to win the second set with ease. They were one hell of a doubles team. 

As the crowd left the stadium, Novak was stopped several times for autographs or pictures, and Evelyn happily waited to the side until they could continue. 

"I'm gonna go see Tommy's match," Evelyn informed Novak, already on her way to center court. "But I know you have a match tomorrow, so you don't have to come," she insisted, walking backwards so she could face Novak as she said the words. 

"Yeah, I should get back to the hotel and get some sleep, but this has been fun," he responded. "Are you coming to my match?" 

Evelyn felt a little flustered, not sure how she should respond. 

"If I can make it out there, absolutely," she agreed. Chances were slim that she would be able to make any of the match, but at the very least she could try. There would definitely be some quality tennis played. "Who're you playing?" She asked, genuinely interested now. They'd stopped walking, facing each other on a sidewalk bathed in light. 

"Alejandro Gonzales," Novak responded, trying his luck at a Spanish accent. 

"Él es de Colombia, sí?" Evelyn asked, smirking in response. 

"Say that again," Novak requested, stepping forward ever so slightly, his tone lower. 

"Tú eres de Serbia, yo soy de Los Estados Unidos, y él es de Colombia," she laughed, moving back from his frame, readjusting the bag on her shoulder. "You should be getting back to the hotel," she reminded him, refusing to make eye contact, instead toying with the ring on her finger. "I definitely don't want Marian after me for keeping you out too late," she joked, patting him on the back before heading her own way, towards center court. 

"Bye Evelyn,” he shouted after her as he watched her walk away. She glanced back over her shoulder and smiled, giving him one final wave before adding a wish of good luck for his match tomorrow, and then they went their separate ways.

***

When a cancellation appeared in her schedule the next day, Evelyn couldn’t help but see who was playing on center court, and when she saw that is was Novak, she found herself meandering to the stadium. 

Evelyn’s pass wasn’t questioned by security, the green box generally allowing her to go anywhere within the grounds at any time she pleased, and as such, she was welcomed into a pretty decent spot to the right of the chair umpire, and a few rows up still. 

The score showed that Novak had won the first set 6-1, but had dropped the second. He was up a break in the third though, and he was playing like every point was his last. He definitely was the real deal. 

Though he’d lost the second set, Novak was up 4-0 in the third when she left to meet Nieminen who was apparently finishing up a press conference. She was glad that she’d gone though, definitely a worthwhile match to see, Novak was one hell of a player. 

Apparently Jarkko had a lot to say, because Evelyn was waiting in the common area for what felt like ages. 

While she was waiting, she saw Gonzales enter, looking defeated. She had seen on the many screens around the building the conclusion of his match, but hadn’t expected him here so soon. He had played well, but his opponent was in the zone, and there was no beating a determined Novak on hard court it seemed. 

Evelyn found herself willing Jarkko to take longer, hopeful to see the Serbian who had defeated Gonzales. 

No such luck, Jarkko came out right after Gonzales entered, apologizing profusely about being late, although she knew that it probably had nothing to do with him. She congratulated the man on his win, and they walked together to the fitness center, Jarkko explaining the tightness in his calves. This was something Evelyn could easily work with, and hopefully correct, and when she expressed this to Nieminen, he was quite relieved, 

The two spent a good amount of time going over basic things that he could do to relieve stress from the area, and Evelyn reminded him to drink plenty of water when he was off court to insure he didn’t get dehydrated, and insisted that he get herself or another PT to come check him out if the calves started to bother him again. 

“Thank you Evelyn,” Jarkko hummed happily. 

“My pleasure,” Evelyn assured, returning the wide grin he wore. “I hope to see you on the court and not back with me again,” she joked, walking out of the fitness center and back to her ‘office’. Outside the doors, the two parted. Halfway back to the health center, Evelyn realized she had left her bag sitting where she had been working with Jarkko. With a great sigh, she started her trek back. Sometimes Evelyn wondered how she had ever been a professional tennis player she was so lazy. She use to run around courts for hours at a time, and now she barely wanted to walk a few hundred yards to get her bag. 

When she entered the room again, she found the bag sitting right where she had left it, and picked it up, relieved that her carelessness had not cost her anything more than a couples minutes of walking. Upon exiting the building again, she was looking down at her phone stopping briefly to reply to an email from Karlovic’s coach about shoulder problems. The big servers always had them. 

“Evelyn Abrams,” a voice breathed from her right, making her jump, and almost drop her phone. 

A brief glance revealed that is was only Novak, not some crazed axe-murderer, but her heart was still racing from the scare. She had always been jumpy. 

“Good god,” Evelyn muttered, taking a deep breath to try regulating her staggered breathing. Novak was doubled over with laughter, a huge smile adorning his face, eyes bright with humor. “Novak Djokovic, that is not funny!” She insisted, pushing him playfully out of her way and proceeding to walk away. 

“Hey, hey,” he objected, his long strides allowing him to catch up easily. “I’m sorry,” he persisted, giving her his best innocent face. Evelyn rolled her eyes, and continued walking, ignoring the man beside her as best she could. 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Evelyn demanded, looking at her companion with doubt. 

“I was actually going to get a massage, but then I saw you, and now here we are,” he sang out, a stupid smile on his face the whole time. 

“Are you cheating on me with other PTs?” Evelyn accused, feigning hurt feelings over the matter, and Novak laughed along with her. 

“Only because you’re cheating on me with other players,” Novak defended, giving her a sour look that lasted all of two seconds before he couldn’t hold the face anymore. 

“See, but I signed a contract that says I’m available to any player at any time during the course of a tournament for the next five years, so there’s not much I can do about it,” Evelyn elaborated with a shrug, as if to say, what can you do? Novak considered this for a moment before giving his own retort. 

“Any time?” He pushed, looking at her with mischief in his eyes that gave her reason to worry. 

“Don’t you dare,” she warned mouth agape at his implications and she shoved him again in warning. 

“Kidding,” he lilted, holding up his hands as a sign of peace. “I don’t even have your number,” he pointed out, Evelyn was only mildly aware of his agenda, but she didn’t mind even so. 

“You could get it through the ATP,” Evelyn offered. “Or Felix, that would probably be faster.”

“Or I could just ask you for it,” Novak suggested, offering a cheeky grin.

“Who says I would give it to you?” Evelyn challenged, crossing her arms and smirking at him. 

“I like a challenge,” Novak nodded, taking a minute to think. “I bet I can get your number before you can get mine,” he stated bluntly. Evelyn raised an eyebrow, ready to take the challenge.

“What are we betting?” Evelyn countered seriously. 

“Dinner,” Novak decided resolutely.

Evelyn nodded, casually looking down to her phone before lifting it to her ear. Novak stared at her questioningly, Evelyn only smiling politely in response, holding up a finger to signify that she was on the phone now. Suddenly he realized that she was starting the hunt for his number already, not even telling him that the game had started. 

While Novak understood little of the rapid-fire Spanish Evelyn was speaking, he assumed she was on the line with Rafa. Deciding to follow Evelyn’s suggestion, Novak called Felix, who answered quickly, calling out a greeting and congratulating him on his latest win. Novak returned the greeting, thanking Felix before asking for Evelyn’s number, promising to explain the full situation later. 

Evelyn was off the phone when Novak finished his conversation, but she hadn’t claimed victory yet, so Novak still had hope. The number from Felix came quickly, and he clicked the link to call it as soon as it showed up, the feeling of victory tangible to him now. 

Evelyn’s phone buzzed, and she looked up towards Novak, a sly grin on her face as she held out the phone for him to see. On the screen, the name ‘Novak Djokovic’ showed up with a very old picture of him, taken in a locker room in some far off place. 

“That’s not fair,” he moaned, ending the call. “It’s not even a good picture either, god dammit Rafa,” Novak complained, shaking his head dramatically.

“Poor thing,” Evelyn tantalized, rubbing Novak’s back to console him, though she clearly wasn’t feeling remorseful at all. In a less solemn tone, Evelyn added, “So where are you taking me for dinner?”

“What do you like?” Novak questioned, suddenly less sad about losing the bet. 

“It’s all up to you,” Evelyn informed him, holding up her hands to signify relinquishing the power. 

"My choice?” Novak queried, a spark of mischief in his eyes. Evelyn nodded in response, rolling her own eyes at him. “I’ll think about it, but right now, I have to say, I was serious about the massage thing,” he chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck with a hesitant expression, not sure if it was okay to ask her for a massage now. 

“Why are you giving me that look?” She demanded, ready to walk back to the fitness center and give the man a massage. He hesitated, opening his mouth, then reconsidering once more before finally spitting it out. 

“It’s not weird?” He spoke, the skeptical look still graced his features as he asked the question. 

“Why would it be weird?” Evelyn shrugged casually. “I do get paid for this you know,” she reminded him, shaking her head at his odd behavior before setting off to find a massage table.

***

With only three days of play left in the tournament, Evelyn was happy to see fellow American, Isner, advance to the next round, along with Novak, and sad to see Tommy fall to Federer. His shoulder was really getting to him, and Evelyn suffered with him knowing there was nothing she could do to help him. 

When Novak won, she could hear it before she saw it on the screen of her laptop where she had the live match scores open in a side tab. She was ready to hit the hay and retire for the night, all matches finished, and all of the other guys long gone. 

A text arrived just as she was leaving though, and she stopped to read it.

_Dinner tonight?_

Evelyn smiled at the offer, quickly typing back a confirmation, telling him she was working late, and to text her when he was done with the press conference.

Sitting back down, she opened her laptop, sorting through her emails; they never seemed to end these days. 

John Price, an ATP executive had sent her an email regarding her schedule after this month, which was consumed by ATP 1000's. 

Morocco for a week, the on to Monte Carlo for the next masters. 

She didn't mind missing out on Houston so much now that she'd been able to be in the states for longer than a few days. She liked the travel and adventure of the job. 

Tentatively, after Monte Carlo it seemed to be Barcelona and then Munich, but that was subject to change. 

A few more emails down the line, her phone buzzed, Novak's name popping up on screen, and she unlocked the phone to see his text.

_Almost leaving._

Almost was good enough for her, and she closed the laptop for a second time that night and pushed it into her real purse, a brown leather bag she had bought a year or so ago now. It was much nicer than the shoulder bag she carried with her around the grounds, and much heavier with the latest addition of her computer. Waiting patiently outside of the media building, Evelyn enjoyed the cool breeze of crisp and clean California air. 

Novak's emerged soon enough, hair still damp from the shower he must have taken after the match, wearing jeans, a polo and a light warm up jacket. 

"Hey," she greeted, standing up straight and giving up her position against the wall. "Nice match," she nodded in approval, walking along with Novak to find a town car that would take them back to the hotel, or any destination really. 

"Thanks," he grinned, still high off the post match win feeling, a feeling she knew well, and missed. "Is room service okay for dinner? Match tomorrow," he explained as the two made their way out to the shuttle station as Evelyn so fondly referred to it. 

"Of course," Evelyn nodded with understanding. "Are you sure you want to do this tonight?" Evelyn persisted. "I'm all for helping out another American, but this seems like an unethical way to do that," she joked, referring to his match against John Isner tomorrow. 

"Company sounds nice tonight," he nodded, a desolate tone in his voice as he spoke the words. Evelyn nodded, not pushing the subject any further. It could be lonely on tour, even though there were times when it felt like you were drowning in people. 

Back at the hotel, Evelyn followed Novak to his room, and they ordered room service. The two shared stories, and seemingly talked about anything and everything for the next hour. 

"The American crowd is so great," Novak reveled, looking out the window absently. 

"You say that now, but wait until tomorrow," Evelyn warned, sitting cross legged on his bed while Novak himself sat in a chair across from her. He chuckled, knowing she was right. American crowds were great until you were playing against an American. 

"What's it like, playing them as an American?" He asked, looking back at her and tilting his head. 

"Sometimes, it's amazing," she admitted, not able to suppress a smile. "Other times strange Czech men insult you," she shrugged, giggling at Novak's confusion. 

She stretch out as he asked about the strange explanation, and she laughed again. 

"A story for another time," Evelyn promised, standing up and backing towards the door. "Goodnight Novak," she called, opening the door ever so slightly before turning to wave. 

"Thanks for the company," he smiled in return, waving back at her.


	7. Tournaments

After almost three months on tour, Evelyn ran into a composure problem. Not her own, but a problem with other people's composure. In the locker rooms, she came across yelling, screaming, down right tantrums sometimes. It drove her crazy, made her wish she could lose her composure, yell at them, tell them exactly how out of line they were being. She couldn't of course, and she wouldn't. 

Evelyn had always been somewhat reserved on court, and in the locker rooms, concerned with the perception of her as a player and a person. Generally quiet and compliant, she hardly raised her voice above a conversational level, internalizing most of her frustration. She lived in an era with challenges, and had no reason to shout at bad calls, her weapon of choice was a challenge, and that challenge would tell them who was right. It was no use to argue further than that. Clearly not everyone felt that way though. 

Something about Florida maybe. 

This issue was one she complained to her brother about, telling him how it drove her absolutely crazy, and how completely idiotic she found it. 

Felix nodded along, a guilty look on his face as she ranted, and she finally stopped, realizing what he must be thinking of right now. 

“Fe, it was one time, you’re not the kind of person I’m talking about,” she frowned, wishing she hadn’t brought up the subject in the first place now. 

"No, I get it," he promised. “It’s no big deal,” he shrugged, standing up from the bean bag chair he’d had forever, stretching out before looking back at his sister, who was sitting on his bed cross-legged. 

“Nole is supposed to be getting here today, can we drive out now?” Felix asked. His true intentions probably also had something to do with not wanting to suffer through the drive with their father and his incredibly boring radio choices. 

“Of course,” Evelyn nodded, standing up herself now. She always forgot that Felix was so young. He didn’t even have his license yet, it was crazy to her, he was so beyond his years. “Have you had breakfast yet?” She asked, feeling like a nagging mother as she picked up her keys from the counter in the kitchen before leaving the house. 

“Yeah, I cooked this morning," he informed her, nodding to a pile of dishes by the sink that indicated a meal had been prepared. 

With that confirmation, the two left the house. 

"Do you want to pick up Josie?" Evelyn offered before they left the suburban neighborhood. Felix thought for a moment before agreeing that it was a good idea. 

"How are things going with you two?" She prodded as Felix gave directions to Josie's house. He didn't bother looking at a map or his phone, he had it memorized. 

"Good," Felix answered vaguely. Evelyn didn't push further, but she smiled broadly at the answer, and even more so when he saw Josie greet her brother with a huge hug at the door. The two had a brief conversation before they shuffled out to the car, Josie taking the back since Felix needed more leg room. 

Evelyn and Josie talked, Felix groaning at their obvious connection, claiming he didn't need the two gossiping with each other, but in good spirit. 

Upon arrival, Evelyn parked in a hidden lot reserved for event staff, and the three piled out of the car. 

"Nice ride," an accented voice shouted, and the three turned to see Novak standing across the lot next to a very expensive looking sports car. 

"Nole!" Felix shouted in return, rushing over to him, the two immediately embracing like long lost brothers. 

Evelyn followed her brother's path, making her way through the cars over to the Serbian, a rather star struck Josie by her side. 

"Josie, this is Nole, Nole, this is my friend Josie," Felix explained, smiling and pointing. 

"Nice to meet you Josie," Novak grinned at Josie, holding out a hand which she shook in return. 

"Do you want your surprise now?" Novak asked Felix, grinning like a child on Christmas morning. Evelyn wondered what surprise Novak could have? Rackets, clothes, equipment? They were both sponsored already. Novak dug through his tennis bag, pulling out two blue lanyards, not unlike the one tied to his own bag, or the one Evelyn had hiding in her purse. 

Felix turned them over in his hands, looking at the tags on each. 

"Nole, you didn't!" Felix laughed, grinning like a fool before handing one of the badges over to Josie. Evelyn peered over at them. Josie was holding a credential with her picture on it, claiming she was a guest of his. For a normal player, this would not entail a lot, but high profile players like Novak got special treatment, and so Josie now had a green box and virtually all access pass to the grounds. 

"Welcome to the family," Novak smiled at his friend. Felix Djokovic as his credentials claimed he was a cousin. 

"I'm gonna head in, I'll see you later though," she confirmed with Josie and her brother. They nodded feebly before turning back to the man of the hour. 

"Bye Evelyn," Novak shouted as she walked away. She rolled her eyes before waving in return as she made her way to the gate. 

***

"I still owe you dinner," an accented voice stated, causing Evelyn to look up from her notebook, filled with scribbled notes and ideas, as well as times for meetings and the occasional doodle. 

"I thought that was the other night," Evelyn disagreed, resting her head on the palm of her hand. 

"No, that was us hanging out in a hotel room and eating room service. That is not dinner. I want to take you to a proper dinner." 

"Is this what you do when you lose a match," she joked, shifting slightly to look more towards Novak. 

"I'm not generally this good at losing, no," he chuckled, leaning forward on her desk so they were closer. Evelyn looked up at him once more, his eyes catching her attention. They were brown on the inside, but there was almost a ring of green outside of them. 

"Your eyes are so cool," she murmured, leaning forward to get a better look. Novak smiled, indulging her curiosity and looking at her with intentionally wide eyes. 

"I was serious about the dinner thing," Novak insisted as soon as Evelyn leaned back in her chair, done inspecting his eyes. 

“Novak, you already paid for my meal once,” Evelyn sighed, never one that liked to let others do things for her without returning the favor in some way. 

“Evelyn, I want to take you to dinner. Money isn’t really an issue,” he reminded her. It was hard to remember that this man was a multi-millionaire sometimes, he was just so normal. A lot of players were like that though. There for the love of it first, and took whatever came with it.

“I don’t have money issues either,” Evelyn quipped. “If we go out to dinner, I pay for my share.”

“What would my mother say if she found out I was letting a lady pay for her own meal?” Novak shook his head, not budging on the issue, but neither was Evelyn. 

“Don’t tell your mother then,” she whispered in a conspiratorial tone, leaning forward with a smirk on her lips. 

“How about this,” Novak started, leaning farther forward on his elbows, grinning like he knew something she didn’t, and maybe he did. “When I win this tournament, you let me take you out to any restaurant in the city, and pay the full bill, with no complaints or arguments.”

Evelyn laughed at his confidence, though couldn’t deny that he had a right to be feeling that way. 

“Sure,” she nodded, reaching her hand out to shake on the deal. Novak’s hand engulfed her own, huge in comparison. 

“I’m going to go see my cousin,” Novak smiled deviously, straightening out again. “Can you come?”

“Tragically, no,” Evelyn sighed, standing up as well, shutting the notebook and shoving it into it’s place in her bag, then slinging that over her shoulder. “But that was really sweet of you, I know it means a lot to him.”

“It was my pleasure,” Novak told her. “He’s a good kid. Maybe if you’d let me take you out to dinner, you’d know that I could be sweet,” he nudged, grinning. 

“All you’ve got to do is win this tournament,” Evelyn shrugged. 

“Give it two weeks,” he joked, following her as she walked outside into the bright Florida sun. 

***

After a first round bye, Novak faced Jeremy Chardy. 6-4, 6-3. One step closer to the final where he so desperately wanted to be. He saw Evelyn in passing, she was hurrying off to some practice court for an emergency something, Novak didn't catch it all. She did manage a congratulations though, to which Novak simply winked. 

The next match was to be Florian Mayer, but he withdrew at the last minute, not a surprise to Evelyn, as she had been dealing with his knee problems earlier in the tournament. Even if he had played, she doubted Novak would have had any trouble. A little running, and he was out of it. 

Next, Robrerdo. The first set went 6-3, Novak. The second set, there were more mistakes, and Tommy played with more vigor, less afraid to take crazy shots. He went for every ball, and Nole had to work for every point, but he still won the second set 7-5. He was now into the semis and he had yet to drop a set. 

The semis brought up a more fierce opponent, one he had played many times, and one who knew him on and off the court. The first set went to 7-5, but after the win, Novak felt rejuvenated, and the man on the other side of the net was clearly frustrated with himself. Novak capitalized, quick play and short shots wore down his friend, and the second set was his at 6-3. Andy Murray was now out of the tournament. 

Nishikori, the up and coming Japanese player was next on his list. After defeating Federer in an intense three setter though, Nishikori was forced to withdraw with injury, making Nole feel lucky, yet a bit disappointed. He wanted to prove himself. On the other side of the draw, Rafa was due to play Berdych, but Tomas withdrew as well. The final would be a Rafa vs Nole showdown, and both would be rested. 

***

"Is there a bonus for not dropping a single set the entire tournament?" Novak questioned, trying to milk the situation as much as possible. He was fully aware of Evelyn's guilt because she was bailing on the plans they had had the entire tournament, and he was trying to get what he could off of it. 

"Is there a repeal for the two matches that you didn't play?" Evelyn shot back, showing the fiery side of her personality that had been missing in the conversation prior. 

"Hey," Novak whined, a pouty face covering his handsome features, making Evelyn wish suddenly she hadn't given quite so soon. He deserved to have one night to celebrate with no negativity. 

"What do you want as a bonus?" She asked, the question was a peace offering of sorts. 

"Lunch when we're in Monte Carlo. An hour and a half, at least."

Evelyn nodded in acceptance, unable to hide the smile that the Serbian's bargain brought to her lips. 

***

Casablanca was a blur for Evelyn, and she was excited to see Marcel Granollers thriving in the clay, not that she expected any differently, especially from a Spaniard. Granola Bars as Brad so frequently called him, went all the way to the finals, but was stopped short by Guillermo Garcia-Lopez. It was a fun tournament, there were a lot of good guys she got to work with, a more intimate setting. 

Upon arrival in Monte Carlo, Evelyn met up with the rest of the team, reviewing the last week, covering potential situations, and just talking. 

On Monday morning, Evelyn picked up her phone to see a text from Novak.

_Just landed. When's lunch?_

The timestamp said he had arrived at 4:19AM last night. That would've been a rough trip. 

Evelyn replied, explaining her indifference to the time and date. 

Upon arrival at the Monte Carlo Country Club, Garrett greeted her with a devilish grin. 

"What?" She asked, not in a cruel way, but rather inquisitive. She had no idea what was going on. 

"We're playing a staff tournament, singles and doubles. Play doubles with me."

There really wasn't an option given, more of a command. It was reasonable though, two Americans on a team, and they were friends too. It felt right, so Evelyn agreed. 

"You're going to crush singles," Garrett raved, after finally finishing his drawl on how good their doubles team would be, despite never playing doubles before. 

"I'm not playing singles," Evelyn disagreed, looking at him like he was crazy. She pointed to her left wrist before explaining, "it can only take so much more abuse."

"I've seen your one handed backhand Evelyn!" Garrett almost shouted as they entered their new office. Luka poked his head of of a doorway at the disruption of silence, a quizzical look masking his usually bright and smiling face. 

"She's trying to not play singles in the tournament," Garrett explained, running a hand through his hair, like this was a stressful topic for him. 

"You have to play though! If you don't play then Jacqueline wins, no competition," Luka pouted. "She won't shut up about it for years."

"Maybe there's a really good ball girl," Evelyn shrugged, not swayed by the arguments put forth by either man. She hated Jacqueline as much as the next person, but exposing herself to ridicule by everyone to crush Jacqueline's tennis game wasn't worth it. 

"Evelyn," Luka cried, seeming genuinely upset about her letting Jacqueline, who was an assistant to some big shot ATP board member, win. 

Evelyn ignored the protests and went to the master calendar. Her first session was Delbonis in half an hour on practice court 3, but sitting out on a practice court wasn't as bad as being heckled about not playing some silly tournament by Garrett and Luka, so she grabbed her bag with supplies, and left, a few complaints still being thrown at her. 

***

Upon returning to the health center, she saw Garrett, Luka and the unmistakable figure of Novak somewhat huddled together. They turned at the sound of her entrance, but she looked down to the floor and tried walking past them instead of confronting whatever they had ganged up on her for now. 

The room was silent, and she had no doubt they had been talking about her before. She chose an office and closed the door behind her, dropping the bag and sitting down at the desk. She pulled out her notebook and a pen and wrote absently about Delbonis. He would play Lu tomorrow, and Raonic after that if he won, so she didn't count him in for much of a tournament, but she wanted to help him still. His elbow was constantly stiff apparently. She wrote down possible ailments and the potential treatments, but stopped when the door creaked open. 

"Hey," Novak said, obviously wary of her response, as he hung back by the door. Evelyn waved in response, and he crept forward, closing the door behind him once again. "What's up?" He asked, sounding almost scared, and Evelyn stifled a laugh. 

"The usual," she shrugged, looking back at her notes momentarily before returning her gaze to the man before her. 

"You okay?" There was a tinge of fear behind the question, like he was afraid of setting off a landmine, but there was also genuine concern. 

Shaking off the morning events, Evelyn nodded, trying to assure him that she was in fact alright. 

"Fine," she stated, smiling to prove her point. 

"How does lunch sound?" Novak asked, more confident now. "My treat," he grinned, and things seemed normal again, the staff tournament out of mind for now. 

“Novak, it’s,” she stopped, looking at her phone for the time. “10:18 AM,” she finished. 

“Clear your calendar from 11:30-1:00 then, because you’re not postponing on me again.”

Evelyn grabbed her planner, flipping through the pages until she found the right date, then considered it for a minute, drawing a few arrows and rewriting times to fit with Novak’s request. 

“I can do 11:45-1:15,” she bargained, and Novak considered. 

“Fine,” Novak agreed finally, after a longer than necessary pause. “I’ll meet you here at 11:45. Don’t be late.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Evelyn replied.


	8. Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter jumps around in time a little, but I hope you like it. :)

11:45 found Evelyn in a remote corner of the grounds, her father speaking hastily, words tumbling through the line as though he thought that it might stop working at any time, and he wanted to get in his last argument. 

"Amoureux," he mumbled, using his rare form of endearment, a remnant of the French he had spoken when he first met her mother, a French woman. "This could be good for you." Another pause, but when Evelyn didn't respond, he continued. "You still love it, don't you? It never goes away, you shouldn't deprive yourself of this just because you think you're not good. Look at Andy, he played a golf tournament last week. He's more shit at golf than I am," Roy joked, referencing Andy Roddick, someone who left tennis on his own terms, but perhaps still earlier than he would have liked with his shoulder problems. 

"Dad, what if people find out?" She asked, her voice weak, silent tears falling down her cheeks. She didn't want people thinking she just quit on tennis. Her wrist quit on her. If she could, she would be playing professionally still, but that just wasn't realistic anymore. It was silly, and juvenile, but she was scared, and this was the one thing she could talk to her father about. 

"The sports writers? Fuck 'em. What can they say? They told Andre he wasn't a champion. They're a bunch of snakes, and they'll trash anyone and anything if you give them half a chance," Roy ranted. He didn't like sports writers. "Never let the fear of double faulting keep you from playing the game," he finished, changing the popular phase to the one he always used, making Evelyn smile in spite of herself. 

"Thanks dad," she said softly. "I love you," she added, in an even smaller voice. 

"Love you too, kid," Roy grumbled back, rarely one for such affections, but indulging her just the same. "You gonna play?" He finally asked, the question she knew was coming, but was unprepared for just the same. 

"Yeah," Evelyn confirmed, wiping the tears from her face, willing herself to be done crying. 

"Kick Jacqueline's ass for us," Roy commanded shortly before ending the call. It was 4AM in Florida still. 

Upon ending the call, Evelyn opened the camera on her phone, fixing any smears of makeup, and trying to look presentable. 

12:07 PM is what the time read when she deemed herself acceptable to see people again. 

"Oh, fuck," she groaned, realizing how late she was to her lunch. She was already inexcusably late, but she still sprinted back to the health center, finding it abandoned by her co-workers.

"I'm fairly sure I specifically said, 'do not be late'," Novak commented when Evelyn showed up in the office finally. 

"I'm really sorry Novak," Evelyn apologized, her voice still crackling like rice paper from speaking with her father, even if she had no reason for it. 

"It's fine," he waved off, stepping closer to her, concern covering his face again. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, I was just talking to my dad," Evelyn shrugged. She didn't want to get into this with Novak right now. Or ever really. 

"Is everything okay? Felix is good?"

Evelyn laughed at Novak's immediate concern for her brother, though she found it endearing. 

"Really, everything's fine. Everything's great, we were just talking some tennis," she shrugged. It was true to an extent. 

"Is Felix playing a tournament?" He asked, clearly confused at what there was for the two to talk about. 

"No," she shook her head. "There's a staff tournament here. I got talked into playing."

Novak opened his mouth to ask further questions, but Evelyn beat him to it. 

"Can we just get something to eat?" She asked, biting her lip without intention to do so. A nervous tick of sorts. 

"Yeah, of course," he insisted, putting a hand on the small of her back and gently leading her out of the building. 

***

After a long and grueling practice session with Garrett and Alex, one of the players on tour who insisted that he needed more court time, and was willing to take it even with a washed up WTA player and a scholarship kid, even with his impressive ranking. Evelyn thanked both men and headed to the locker room for a shower and fresh change of clothes. Seeing as Monte Carlo was an ATP only event, there were no women's locker rooms open, but it was late, and there were hardly any players left, so she dropped her bags by a random locker, pulled out a towel and showered without disruption. Even changing was no problem, though she doubted any players would mind, none showed up, giving Evelyn a few minutes of absolute bliss in the form of silence. 

As soon as she was decent again, and her thoughts were collected, she grabbed the bag, hoisted it over her shoulders and left the locker room, refreshed by the outside air, a mix of clay and ocean breeze. 

She was ready for anything, or at least it felt like she was. 

It felt so good to be on court with people who cared as much as she did. It was a rarity these days. Run after every ball, good calls every call, and someone who spiced the game up a little. 

At the hotel, she kicked off her shoes, set her alarm for 6, and slept the soundest she had in a long, long time. 

Upon waking she was almost comforted by the sore muscles, knowing that she had worked hard for the pain. A black town car escorted her to the grounds, which were abandoned at this hour, but she needed time to arrange her schedule, and after that, Raonic had requested her for practice at 7:30. She had to admire the guys that had the pull to get practice court time whenever they wanted, but came out in the morning. 

Scheduling was hectic, doing last minute tweaks to when she could be where, and for how long. She printed out the final draft, and wrote in small but looping letters at the bottom to contact her cell if there were any problems, writing the number under the note. She also emailed a copy to the tournament director, knowing people would go to him with questions as well. 

The day passed in a whirl of athletic tape, sprinting from court to court, and making it to appointments with barely seconds to spare. 

Her last meeting was with Tommy Robrerdo, from Spain. She knew him vaguely, and she liked him from the brief encounters they had shared in the past. When she arrived, she was out of breath from running all the way from the health center, needing to replenish her stock of tape. 

"Hola chica," he greeted, looking up to smile at her from lacing up his shoes. 

"Hola," Evelyn returned, leaning on the bench looking for any momentary lapse she could take. 

"You don't look so good," he frowned, looking at her one more time. "Are you sick?" 

Evelyn was somewhat taken aback by the observation. She didn't doubt that she looked like a mess, it was past 5, and she couldn't remember eating anything since last night's dinner. She'd been running around all day, her hair was most likely falling out of it's braid, makeup probably smeared, and there was clay staining her socks and ankles. 

"No, no," he frowned, shaking his head at her looking over herself harshly. "You look good, but it's just - you look really pale, and tired."

"He's right," Karim, Tommy's coach nodded, focusing on Evelyn more intently now. "When was the last time you ate?"

"I'm not sure," Evelyn answered, too ashamed to admit that it was last night to the friendly faces that surrounded her. She felt like telling them this would disappoint them more than false ignorance. "It was kind of a crazy day."

"¡Chica!" Karim scolded, frowning deeply, making Evelyn turn her eyes to the ground. It felt like her father was scolding her, but Karim did it with such kindness, she knew it was only because he cared about her well-being. 

Tommy rooted through his bag, pulling out a handful of granola bars and a bottle of water, offering them to her.

"Eat," Tommy insisted, pushing the food closer to her. 

Evelyn picked up a granola bar, and unwrapped it. 

"I'll eat, you warm up," Evelyn nodded, taking a bite to prove her point. Karim patted her on the back, and Tommy stretched out, letting Evelyn lead him through a series of warm ups between bites of granola. 

Before Evelyn could leave the court, Karim placed a hand on her shoulder. Evelyn turned to look at him, and he smiled. 

"We're going to dinner tonight, we'd love to have you."

Once more, Evelyn was taken aback by these words. Her eyes clouded with hot tears, which she immediately blinked away. The gesture was simple, but the kindness was something she couldn't ignore. 

"I would love to," she agreed, nodding her head, surely smiling like a fool. It felt good to have someone looking after her more or less. 

"We have lots of strategy talk and everything to do, so you call me when you're ready, and we'll get something real for you to eat," he promised, half laughing, but also very serious as he scribbled his number on the back of a random receipt he pulled out of his pocket. Again, she was touched by the patience and generosity of the offer, and she neatly folded the receipt, tucking it behind her driver's license in her wallet. 

"I should be done in about an hour and a half," she promised, smiling at the man. "Thank you," she repeated, and he just laughed and pulled her in for a hug. 

***

Evelyn pulled out the receipt from it's hiding place in her wallet, dialed the number and waited. 

"Hola," Karim's voice spoke, she returned the greeting, and Karim went off on a tangent about dinner, asking her what she liked, if she'd ever been to this restaurant, and would this be okay?

"Anything is fine with me," Evelyn promised, laughing at the fuss he was making. 

Ultimately, they ended up at the country club's restaurant, a nice view of the ocean from their seats. 

Besides Tommy, and Karim, a small army of Spanish tour members joined in. All did their very best to make sure Evelyn felt included, so much so, she could barely eat, she was answering questions so often. Feliciano, another player, asked her about Felix, asking whether he planned to move to pro, or stay a junior player. She admitted that she didn't know, but that she believed he would play juniors until he was at least 16. 

"I turned pro when I was 16," Tommy nodded in approval. 

"Me too," Feliciano added, smiling at the memory. 

"And you sucked, Feli," Albert chuckled, Feli joining in as well, they both knew it was true. 

"Hey, I think Garrett said you two were playing doubles in the staff tourney, but his Spanish is terrible, so I could've gotten that wrong," Albert added, looking to Evelyn once more for confirmation. 

"Yeah," she laughed, rolling her eyes but nodding. "He's very excited. I still have no idea what's going on. He had me out there practicing last night," she laughed at the memory, thinking it silly now. 

"Abrams back on top," Karim shouted, grinning widely at her. She shook her head to disagree, but the rest of the table joined in as well. Just as they started to quiet down, her phone buzzed. The number was unknown, but most of her calls were. She excused herself from the table and answered the call once she was outside. 

"Evelyn Abrams," she answered in a professional voice. 

"Evelyn, we need you on practice court 9 as soon as possible," an unfamiliar voice explained. Probably a staffer here only for the tournament. 

"On my way," Evelyn said before hanging up. 

Evelyn explained to the Spanish entourage that she was being called away, but thanked them for their company. They waved their goodbyes, and Evelyn found a waiter, managing to pay the current bill for the table as a small gift of gratitude, mostly to Tommy and Karim, but to the rest of them as well. 

Upon arrival at practice court nine, she saw her practice partner from the other night, sitting on a bench, stretching out his leg, a group of four men surrounding him. Unmistakably, one of the figures was the one and only Novak Djokovic, and she spotted Becker and Marian, guilt by association almost. She put this aside though, focusing on the matter at hand. 

"Alex," she called, making her way over to the court, dodging other practices and players on the way. He looked up at the sound, and Evelyn crouched beside him. "What happened?"

"Slid a little too much in the clay," he explained calmly. "My pride's hurt more than anything else," he admitted with a chuckle. "I'm fine, Novak just over reacted, really." 

Evelyn looked up for the first time to greet the four sets of gazing eyes. 

"You three can keep practicing," Evelyn instructed, shooing Novak and his coaches. This was a matter between Alex, his coach and herself. Reluctantly, they agreed, getting back on court, and Evelyn introduced herself to Alex's coach, Jack. 

"I'm just going to do a typical test to make sure everything really is good," Evelyn explained, looking between Alex and Jack. Both nodded. 

After running Alex through the simple motions, she told the two that she thought Alex may have lightly strained a muscle, most likely the medial head. After running through the options, they opted for positioning tape, which Evelyn had on hand, and she secured the area in hopes of preventing further injury as well as speeding up healing. 

"You really upgraded practice partners, huh?" Evelyn joked before Alex took the court again. 

"He hasn't got half your game," Alex jested back before thanking her one last time, then finishing his practice. Evelyn stayed to talk to Jack for a minute, explaining what to watch for to make sure Alex healed right, and insisting that he get a hold of her with any question, then a minute more to watch how Alex was playing. He looked healthy, so there was no need to stay any longer, and she slipped off the court, returning to the quiet refuge of the health office. 

***

"I'm a little insulted that I wasn't your first choice as a practice partner."

Evelyn jumped, looking up to see Novak leaning against the doorway of another temporary office. He cracked a smile at her shock, but didn't move any closer, staying somewhat aloof by staying separated. 

"He wanted to hit, and we happened to be out there," she shrugged, ignoring Novak's unconventional entrance. 

"You _could_ make it up to me by going to dinner with me though," Novak offered. A complacent smirk adorned his face.

"I already had dinner," she answered, looking away from him to focus once more on the email she'd been typing before she was so rudely interrupted. She could feel the smirk disappearing, and it was almost satisfying to her. 

A long silence engulfed them as Novak thought of his next move. 

"Grigor is playing Ferrer right now," he said finally. "That has to be more enticing than whatever you're doing.

Evelyn looked up, forced to smile by Novak trying to be cool. 

"How could I say no to watching the best looking guy on tour?" Evelyn mocked playfully, quoting Novak on Grigor's looks. He wasn't wrong though, the guy was handsome. 

"It's true, I just can't compete with his rugged good looks," Novak sighed, looking down to his shoes in false defeat. 

"Cheer up Djokovic, that frown isn't getting you any closer to Grigor," Evelyn joked, standing up. She walked past Novak, who was still leaning against the door, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her back before she was out of reach. 

Evelyn stood still, face to face with Novak, stunned. Novak hesitated, not quite sure of what he wanted to say before finally spitting something out.

"Do you really think Grigor's the best looking guy on tour?" He asked. This was definitely not the question he had intended to ask originally. She shook her head, still lost with the situation. 

"Do you?" She finally managed to return, lightly tapping his hand with her free one, reminding him that he was still holding on to her hand. He considered the question, but still held her hand, ignoring her reminder. 

"I suppose, yeah," he nodded. "He's a good looking guy, and he's very cool." A pause. "Are you going to tell me who your choice is?"

Evelyn giggled ever so quietly, looking away from Novak to hide the flush of her cheeks. 

"I don't know," she answered, shrugging her shoulders to make her point. Novak frowned, and she knew they weren't leaving until she came up with an answer. "Klizan?" She finally settled, asking more than answering, like she needed confirmation. "Martin Klizan."

"Klizko?" Novak asked, sounding almost frustrated. "I lost to a guy not even in the top hundred?" His light heartedness was back though, and she could tell he wasn't too deeply offended by her choice. 

"He's handsome," she justified, grinning back at him now. 

"I'm handsome!" Novak argued, dropping her hand finally to frame his face, like he was a living photograph. 

"You are," Evelyn agreed. "You've totally got the five o'clock shadow going for you, and you're tall, built, I could cut myself with how sharp your jawline is, but you're not quite Klizan," she teased, knowing full well what she was doing, and enjoying every moment of it. 

"You're infuriating," he sighed.

"I try my very best," she retorted.

***

Evelyn showered after her match, an easy 6-0 victory, but her head was hardly in it. Hair still dripping, she threw on clothes and after leaving the locker room she marched to the town cars, and directed the driver to Novak's home. They had planned on having dinner after his match, and after catching bits and pieces of it, she had something to say.

The car dropped her off, and she briefly wondered how she would get back to the hotel. She knocked, then waited. 

"You look nice," Novak greeted, opening the door to invite her in. The comment was ignored and she instead held her hands out expectantly. The bewildered look on Novak's face made her roll her eyes, and instead reach for Novak's right wrist. Gingerly, she held it, turning it over in her hands carefully, and then looked to Novak. 

"You're playing tomorrow?"

"I have to," he said, sternly. 

"You don't, and you shouldn't," she countered, stepping in closer and closing the door finally. 

"Evelyn, I don't want to talk about this," he told her through gritted teeth. She crossed her arms.

"Novak, this is my job, I'm here to keep you healthy."

"You're here because I _invited you here_! You Evelyn, I invited you, not you as a professional, but you, and I'm telling you that I don't want to talk about it," he shouted, turning to walk further into his home. 

"Is this a joke?" She asked, her tone furious as she followed Novak through his house. "You think this is just professional? I don't have anything invested emotionally in this? In you? Like a fucking wrist injury doesn't phase me at all?" She paused, stopping in the living room area. "Are you not going to look at me while I talk to you?" She complained. 

"I said to drop it Evelyn!" He screamed, turning on his heel to face her finally. 

"Fuck you," she spat back, walking deliberately to the door, taking care to slam it as loudly as she could behind her.


	9. Wants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn is unsure, but the same cannot be said for Novak.

Twenty minutes had passed, and Evelyn took deep breaths, considering what she should do. On one hand, she could stay angry at Novak, ignore his texts and calls and avoid him for the rest of the tournament to prove a point of how angry she was, but that really didn't help anyone. The other option would be to walk back to the house, knock on the door, make up, and not have to worry about fucking with his head before a match, even if he had an off day tomorrow. 

Her phone vibrated again, and she didn't have to look at the screen to know who was calling. Novak. Again. 

The buzzing answered her question, and she made the short trip back to the house, collecting herself before knocking on the door for the second time that night. It flew open after just moments, and Novak jumped on her like they hadn't seen each other in years. 

"You shouldn't run off in strange neighborhoods at night like that," he sighed, his chin resting on her head, tucking her safely into him. "Especially not here."

"Are you saying you live in a sketchy neighborhood?" She laughed, letting go of him and expecting the hug to end, but he held on just a little longer, giving her one final squeeze. 

He ignored the comment, pulling her in to the kitchen.

"I'm sorry," they both said in unison. 

"No really," Evelyn insisted, eager to get the apology off her chest. "I crossed a line, I shouldn't tell you what to do, or bring a professional relationship into a personal one. I was a bitch, and I'm genuinely sorry," she finished, leaning against the kitchen counter, nervous to hear his response. 

"I was a dick, I shouldn't have treated you that way, and I shouldn't have raised my voice with you either. I was out of line."

Novak looked at her seriously, searching for confirmation of her acceptance. She nodded ever so slightly, and he returned the gesture, a sign of mutual respect. 

"We still on for dinner?" Evelyn joked, looking up hopefully. 

"Of course," he nodded, opening his arms for another hug, which Evelyn easily accepted. 

Dinner was gluten free pasta, and they ate it on the couch with tennis playing in the background. Novak turned so he was facing Evelyn, stretching out his legs beside her. She scrunched up her nose in distaste, but allowed it. Her companion laughed at the face, but did nothing further to aggravate it. 

"Are you still playing the staff tournament?" He asked, taking a bite of the pasta after the question was out. Evelyn chewed her bite, swallowing before she answered.

"Yeah, Garrett and I play the quarters for doubles tomorrow morning, and that night I play women's final," she shrugged, twirling the pasta around her fork. 

"Really?!" He asked, sitting up straighter and grinning wildly. 

"I know, I was shocked Garrett could play doubles too," she nodded seriously before finally cracking a smile. "Did you think I was going to lose first round or something?" She accused lightheartedly. 

"No, no, it's just, that's really cool, congratulations!" 

"It's really not that impressive, there weren't that many women playing in the first place," she disagreed, staying perhaps more modest than she needed to. 

"Does Felix know?" He asked. She shook her head.

"He's in school right now," she explained. "Why are you so obsessed with my little brother?" She teased.

"Runs in the family I guess," he answered casually, working in a subtle wink. Evelyn blushed, looking towards the coffee table instead of Novak. "I bet Felix doesn't like Martin Klizan as much as he likes me," Novak added, spitting out the man's name like it was sour milk. Evelyn rolled her eyes at the comment, then looked to Novak once more. 

"Who's the most attractive WTA player?" She shot back at him, looking to even the battlefield. 

"Maria Kirilenko," he answered with no hesitation. She didn't respond, considering his answer. That was a solid choice, she was beautiful. "Your turn."

"Ivanovic," she answered, confidently. She had always admired Ana's grace on and off court, and you would have to be blind to think she wasn't gorgeous. 

"I'm going to tell her that you said that," Novak said seriously. 

"She should know by now," Evelyn shrugged nonchalantly, sitting up and grabbing Novak's empty dish as well as her own and walking back to the kitchen to wash them out. 

"I'm a horrible host," Novak sighed from the couch, but clearly did nothing to change it, making Evelyn smile to herself.

"A decent cook though," she added. The meal had been surprisingly good, especially for gluten free. He grinned in response, and she sat down again, kicking her feet up into his lap this time. She watched cautiously as he reached for one of her feet, and pulled both away when his hands got too close. 

"What are you doing?" She questioned as Novak laughed at her response. 

"I was going to massage your feet, but I can't really do that now," he explained, and Evelyn couldn't resist smiling at the offer. 

"It'll agitate your wrist," she told him, though she stretched her legs out to their former position. "That's sweet though, thanks."

"I don't think I've ever had a girl turn down a massage before," he stated, more thinking out loud than making conversation. 

"I'll take a rain check," she promised with a smirk. 

***

7-5, 6-2.

The entire match she could see Novak hiding the pain he was feeling, and it hurt her too. She was secretly thankful that it had ended relatively quickly though. He didn't need a three hour match on a bad wrist. On some level, she understood. Pulling out of the match against Federer would make him look scared, and weak. Playing injured kept the fear instilled in others. This is what made him a champion, and she had to respect that. On another level though, she couldn't believe he did this to himself. Made himself suffer like that for a little pride. She knew not to bring it up though, he would deal with it in his own time, in his own way. She did wish she could help though. 

She didn't hear from him for four days. The Federer Wawrinka final had already occurred, and she was in Barcelona.

_Wrist giving me time to read your Wikipedia page. Impressive._

She shook her head at his text, shoving the phone back in her pocket before she could respond. She had a job to do here, and she was going to do it well. 

At night, Evelyn finally texted back.

_I've read yours too. Eh. How're you holding up?_

And so they continued like this for the rest of Barcelona. Rarely did they talk about tennis, instead discussing what they had been up to that day, and how Novak's recovery was coming. He felt confident that he would've back in time for Madrid, and Evelyn cheered him on as best she could from a different country. 

In Munich, Evelyn sent Novak a picture of the draw, specifically of her favorite qualifier: Martin Klizan.

_Enjoy it while you can._

Evelyn laughed at the response, but had to admit he was probably right. Youznhy and Haas both were in his future, and Tommy was defending champ. 

The tournament wore on, and Klizan became a major point of interest for the two. He was tearing through his opponents, the man simply didn't tire. 

Soon, Evelyn sent a picture of Martin standing happily with his trophy and BMW keys. _#62 in the world_

Novak replied with a selfie, pointing to his face in the photo, Evelyn laughed at the message attached: _#2 in the world with a stronger jawline._

***

Evelyn was looking forward to seeing Novak in Madrid, but he pulled out last minute. She was disappointed to not have him around, but glad he was taking the time for his health and recovery. 

Spain was fun, in the spare moments she had, she met with several friends, making the week pass by in a blur, though they usually did anyway. The final was a Nadal Nishikori showdown. A grudge match of sorts, though to be honest, it wasn't a grudge match. This was not Agassi vs Becker, this was the king of clay here to reclaim his throne, but Nishikori didn't give him the opportunity, withdrawing in the third set. The world knew though. Nadal was back, and he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. 

Upon arrival in Italy, she checked her phone, seeing that Novak was still in the draw for Rome. Her flight had landed early, and she was waiting for her luggage when she was nearly tackled to the ground with a hug. 

At first she was taken aback, letting out a gasp before realizing who she was being held by. 

"Jake!" She exclaimed, looking at him with surprise. They were supposed to meet for dinner tonight because of his work, but here he was. 

"Evelyn!" He sang back, twirling her around once before letting her go. She laughed, pushing the hair out of her face to get a better look at him. 

"That's my bag," Evelyn pointed, slipping quickly away to grab the large suitcase. As soon as she managed to pull the luggage off the carousel, Jake appeared by her side again, taking the bag from her, waving away any argument that she might pose, then insisting she follow him to the car. Jake, the gentleman he always was, loaded Evelyn's bags into the car, and the two drove to Jake's flat, exchanging stories and catching up. 

At dinner, Jake ordered for her, he loved food, and was more fluent in Italian for obvious reasons. 

The post meal coffee was offered, as was traditional, and Evelyn interjected that she would like espresso instead of the latte Jake tried to order. The waiter obliged, and Jake looked at her, impressed.

"You've found a taste for the finer caffeine?" He joked.

"I kind of like the bitter," she shrugged, not immediately finding the irony of the answer.

***

Monday evening found Evelyn on the phone with Jake, explaining that she wasn't going to be back at the house until late in the evening, and not to worry about waiting up. 

"Ev, just call me when you want to leave, I'll come get you," Jake promised, masking a yawn in the process. 

"Really, they provide cars, I'll just get one to your house," she responded, shaking her head. "Seriously Jake, get some rest, I’m showering here anyway, I'll be fine, your spare key is easy to find," she laughed, flipping open her planner to look at what was going on tomorrow. 

“Just shower here,” he suggested, it was the reasonable thing to do, but Evelyn was having none of it.

“Your shower sucks, I used it this morning, and it was either Modor hot or north of the wall cold,” she complained, tapping her fingers on the desk in front of her as she spoke, remembering the horrible shower she'd had this morning.

A knock drew her attention towards the doorway, where a 6'2 man stood patiently.

"I gotta go, talk to you later," she rushed, ending the call and tossing the phone onto the padded chair before walking towards Novak. 

"You're staying with someone?" He asked cautiously, staying where he was. 

Evelyn but her lip, not sure how to explain her situation with Jake to Novak without him misinterpreting it. _Why does it matter what he thinks?_ Her subconscious chided. 

"Yeah, a friend from college. He's doing a graduate program at a university here, and invited me to stay with him," she answered, shrugging casually. 

"You must be close," Novak stated simply. 

"We dated for a little over a year, but it never really worked out. Better as friends I guess," she explained, hoping he wouldn't get the wrong message about her staying with him. "If you ask Felix, he's the best boyfriend I've had," she added, trying to lighten the mood. "I swear they were together more than we were when we were in Florida," she laughed at the memories. 

Novak just nodded, being uncharacteristically quiet, so Evelyn continued. 

"We're definitely better as friends though. After all, he's a UCLA man, and I'm a USC Trojan," she joked. "Doomed from the start."

"You must have been serious," Novak finally said. "A year is a long time." 

"He was always a little more serious than me," Evelyn admitted, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear. "Anyway, it's over now. Just friends. How've you been?"

***

Evelyn's phone buzzed, rousing her from her slumber. She reached blindly for the buzzing, finally grabbing it and holding it to her ear, quietly answering, "Hello?"

"You're staying with Jake?" Was the response, and she knew immediately that it was Felix. 

"Yes," she grumbled, collapsing face first into the bed again, muffling her voice. "It's the middle of the night, Felix."

The complaint didn't stop him though, he pressed on. 

"When did you start talking to Jake again?" He insisted, earning a groan from his sister.

"I never stopped talking to Jake," she muttered, annoyed with Felix now that the remnants of sleep had worn off. 

"Novak says it's like, _talking_ though," he repeated.

"Novak's an idiot, and it is," she looked at the alarm clock next to her to finish the sentence. "3:48 AM, so I'm going to hang up now."

There was a hint of an argument from the other line, but she hung up before she could hear the rest. She was tempted to call Novak, and wake him to make things even, but she didn't. He had a match tomorrow, and she wouldn't be responsible for a sleep deprived Novak. 

Briefly, a text was considered, but a wave of exhaustion made anything but sleep too much effort for her. She dropped the phone on the floor, covered her head with a pillow, and fell asleep again. 

The next morning, she ran, showered, and headed to the courts as had become religion these past months. She wished she could find Novak and confront him now about the lies he was telling her brother, but it would just have to wait until after he played Ferrer.

Work went as it usually did, she was happy to take her mind off of things. She worked with Tommy on his shoulder, the wear and tear looking as bad as ever, especially after a tough match against Wawrinka. Tommy confided in her that he was going to withdraw. The look on his face caused her a deep and gnawing pain as well, and she hugged him before he left to talk to his coach about his decision. 

Evelyn hung around the media center after Novak's match finished, and when he finally emerged, he saw her leaning against a wall, arms crossed, and looking less than thrilled. 

"Hey," she greeted harshly, grabbing his attention further. 

"Hi Evelyn," he answered, seeming hesitant. 

"I heard that you and Murray shared a house a couple majors ago," she started. Novak squinted, trying to figure out where this was going. "Should I tell your family that you two are together?"

Novak looked shocked, but Evelyn could tell he knew what she was saying now. At his silence, she continued. 

"We're sleeping in separate beds, in separate rooms. I ended things with him two years ago, and I have literally zero interest in getting back together with him, but yeah, even though _I told you_ Jake and I were just friends, tell my little brother that it's more than that, no big deal," she shrugged sarcastically, more worked up now than when she started.

"I think you're overreacting a little," he said calmly, resting a hand on her shoulder. "I didn't tell Felix you two were together, I said it seemed weird to me that you were staying together, but that was it. What I was trying to say might have gotten a little lost, this isn't my first language."

His explanation was calm, and articulate, and his hand still lay heavy on her shoulder. 

"I think you and my brother should stop gossiping about me all the time," she frowned, though she knew that she wasn't truly in this for a real argument. She didn't have it in her to get in a fight with Novak over this right now. 

"If it makes you feel better, Andy gossips with my brothers all the time," he joked, an ever-so-frustrating grin on his face. 

"Maybe I should just gossip with Murray," she suggested, stepping away from the wall for the first time since the conversation started, and beginning to leave, but Novak grabbed her wrist to stop her. 

"Maybe you should let me formally apologize with dinner," he suggested as an alternative, smiling at her. She frowned in response, but at his persisting smile, she finally rolled her eyes and nodded.

"You don't have to formally apologize, but dinner sounds nice," she agreed. 

***

A Nadal Djokovic final was to be expected on some level, but what Evelyn didn't expect was Novak actually winning. Novak was Novak, yes, but Rafa was Rafa, the king of clay, the untouchable. She wanted to congratulate Novak, but she left before she could hunt down the man himself, he was high in demand after all. The next meeting would have to wait for Roland Garros.

She worked Nice next, a short and sweet tournament, which held some excellent tennis. Though Ernie Gulbis wasn't her favorite, she couldn't deny that watching him play tennis was a delight. He deserved his win. One to watch going into the French. 

Early arrival in Paris earned her an invite to the pre-party at the Eiffel Tower, an event she'd been to in the past. Upon entering, she was given a small name tag, and a tall champagne flute. She felt out of place here, with all of these players who she didn't feel like she knew anymore, and some that she'd never met. Tour was a different place since she'd left, she knew that.

A tap on the shoulder caught Evelyn's attention, and she turned to see the familiar face of another American. 

"Hi," she smiled. "Lauren, right?" 

The girl nodded, returning the smile. 

"Yeah, we talked at Indian Wells," Lauren confirmed. "How are you?"

"I'm good. Just running around the world trying to keep these guys healthy," she laughed, gesturing around to the players that were everywhere in the room. "Are you excited?" She added on, curious to hear what Lauren had to say. She was fairly sure that Lauren had played the French before.

"Nervous," she giggled in response. "Excited but nervous. Clay isn't my best surface, but I'm willing to work for it," she shrugged. 

"That's the attitude to have, for sure," Evelyn agreed. 

The two chatted for a bit longer, and Lauren even asked for any advice Evelyn might have, which she willingly gave. 

Suddenly, a star struck look crossed Lauren's face, making Evelyn turn to see who or what had caused the awed expression. Novak was standing behind her. 

"Hey," Evelyn greeted, somewhat surprised to see him alone. 

"Hi, I'm Novak," he greeted, pointing to his name tag. "Nice to meet you," he paused, pretending to look at her name tag before continuing, "Evelyn."

Evelyn raised an eyebrow at his act, questioning if he really wanted to do that without saying anything. He only grinned in response. Two could play at this game. 

"I know who you are," she answered him, forcing a smile. "This is Lauren," she added, pointing to her friend. They smiled and shook hands, Novak saying something about Lauren beating Azarenka at Indian Wells, and she confirmed that that was indeed her. 

They chatted like total strangers for a few minutes, until Novak was dragged away by someone else, and eventually Evelyn drifted away from Lauren as well, mingling with a few friends and meeting a handful of new people. The night dragged on, and she glanced periodically at her supposed new acquaintance, Novak. By the looks of it, he was glancing her way every so often as well, because she caught him looking more than once, and he simply winked at her before looking away again. What was with him tonight? Was he driving her crazy on purpose?

When it was finally time to head home, Evelyn grabbed a taxi to the apartment she had rented for the next two weeks. 

It was quiet, but reasonably close to the grounds, and there was a bakery a block away that had the best croissants she'd ever had. 

At the apartment, she kicked off the ballet flats she'd been wearing previously, and changed into black leggings and a grey crew neck sweater before curling up in an armchair to continue reading the novel she'd started on the plane. 

In the middle of an exciting twist, there was a knock on the door. Evelyn was annoyed at the interruption, but figured it was the guy who ran the complex with some waver for her to sign or something, so with a small whine of complaint, she headed to the door, her finger holding her place in the book still. Upon looking out the peephole, Evelyn saw an unexpected guest waiting outside. 

With hesitation, she opened the door, peeking around the door to make sure she really was seeing things right, and she was. 

"Novak, right?" She said sarcastically as a greeting, and he nodded, a smile covering his face at the comment. He walked right in, not bothering to wait for an invitation, and he looked around curiously, nodding silently to himself in approval. Approval that Evelyn did not ask for, nor did she need. 

"What are you doing here?" She asked, following him into the living area before rethinking the question. "Better yet, how did you know where I was staying?"

He just smirked at her, letting her figure out the answer on her own. 

"Felix," she groaned, recalling a text asking her Paris address only a few hours ago. She had figured that Felix would stop by during the tournament, and that's why he asked. She looked at Novak again, but he continued his silence, forcing her to speak again. "So you don't know me now?"

"I thought it would be nice to spend a night as strangers," he suggested, stepping out of his shoes, and pushing them next to Evelyn's abandoned flats, showing he planned on staying. 

"I don't let strangers into my apartment," Evelyn reminded. Novak rolled his eyes, sitting down on the couch, ignoring her earlier comment. 

"Seriously, I know you, but I don't feel like I _know you_ ," he insisted. "I want to spend a night actually getting to know you. No professionalism, just Evelyn Abrams, I want to know you," he repeated. 

Evelyn stood, somewhat shocked by what he'd just said. How could she refuse this offer? Novak wasn't taking no for an answer, and to be honest, she didn't want to say no. 

"You're incredibly strange, you know that?" She commented, but taking the seat next to him regardless. He grinned.

"What's your full name?" He jumped right in, resting his feet on the coffee table casually. 

"Evelyn Helena Abrams," she answered, rearranging herself so she was facing Novak, her legs criss crossed. "You?"

"Novak Djokovic," he shrugged. "No middle name. You Americans make everything more complicated than it needs to be," he shook his head, but laughed light heartedly. 

"Well, really, I'm half French, but to be honest, French people do make everything more complicated, so I can't argue."

"Half French?" He mused, casually draping his arm over the back of the couch, his fingers barely brushing Evelyn's shoulder, but she felt their presence clearly. "Your mom's side?"

"Yeah, my parents met at the French actually," she told him. "My mom's dad was a commentator, and he brought her to the tournament every day, and they met in the players lounge one day."

"That's neat," he smiled. 

They discussed other cliched questions, the generic favorites, all the obvious things to ask. They came across the topic of home, a particularly interesting question for both. 

"I technically reside in Monte Carlo, but I spend most of my time in Serbia still. I'm already away from my family a lot, so it's nice to spend time with them in my down time," he explained. 

"Are you close?" Evelyn asked, delving into dangerous territory, because it meant that he might ask the same questions of her. 

"Yeah," he nodded, a far off look on his face like he was back at home in Serbia for a minute instead of here in Paris. "They overstep their boundaries sometimes, but they're family, and I love them," he shrugged. "My brothers especially, we're really close."

"That's good," she nodded. "It must be really hard for them," she added, more thinking out loud than adding to conversation. "It's cool that you stay close though, that's really important."

"Yeah, yeah, definitely," he nodded. "What about you though?"

"I live in Florida with my friend Kara. I'm gone a lot, so it makes sense to split a house. We have a cat, Max. I'm half an hour or so away from Felix and my dad, and there's a tennis club that I coach at sometimes ten minutes away," she answered, going into unnecessary detail in an attempt to avoid the family questions. 

"Do you like living with her?" He asked. A reasonable question.

"Yeah, Kara's great. She's really nice, and way smart. We met at USC. She did one year at USC for her undergrad, and we met there. Her dad is an engineer, and she's an architect, so they actually designed the house we live in. It's really cool," she babbled, distracted by the small circling motions Novak's fingers were making on her shoulder, tempted to reach up and grab his hand and hold it still, or just hold it in general, but restraining herself. 

"Really?" He asked, seeming intrigued by this fact. 

"Yeah, she did it her junior year for some project, but her dad got his firm to design the rest, like plumbing, air conditioning, electricity, and then he built it in Florida so she could be close to home," Evelyn shrugged. "He's very eccentric, but really sweet. They compliment each other really well."

"Do you have a picture?" He questioned. "Of the house," he added as an afterthought to clarify. 

"Yeah, I think so," Evelyn nodded in response, standing up and stretching out before going to the kitchen to pick up her cell phone, unlocking it and scrolling through photos tryin to find a picture of the house. Finally, she found a photo of her and Kara standing side by side with the house clear in the background. She zoomed in to focus on the house more before returning to Novak, sitting close to his side with the excuse of showing him the photo of the house. 

"Pretty," he noted, taking the phone from her to look closer at the photo. He examined it for a minute before leaning over and setting the phone on the coffee table next to Evelyn's abandoned Agatha Christie book. 

"Next time you're in Florida, you can see the inside," Evelyn promised, giving him a tiny smile. 

"I'll take you up on that," he promised, finally wrapping his arm around her shoulders openly, and pulling her closer to his side. 

"Thanks," Evelyn said, voice quieter than it had been before, a hushed tone to fit the surprisingly intimate moment. "For tonight I mean," she clarified, looking away bashfully. "It was really sweet," she added, looking towards her hands, scrutinizing her nails instead of looking at Novak, who's eyes were intently set on Evelyn. 

"Evelyn," Novak murmured, wishing desperately that she would look up at him finally.

"Novak," she returned, peeking up at him finally, and giggling, leaning away from him, reality hitting her again as she realized she shouldn't be doing this. Suddenly she couldn't have enough room between them, and she stood suddenly, backing away from the couch. 

"Easy," he laughed, standing up as well. "I don't bite."

"No, I know," she assured, across the room. "I just," she began, but didn't finish, she didn't actually know what she wanted to say. She watched carefully as Novak made his way towards her once more. 

"Just what?" He prompted, his every step forward resulting in another step back for Evelyn. 

"I don't know what you want," she told him, her back pressed against the wall. 

"For starters I would like to kiss you," Novak stated bluntly, stapling just a few inches from her, raising an eyebrow as if daring her to stop him. 

"Novak, we really shouldn't," she began to argue, but he was having none of it, interrupting before she could finish. 

"Why not?" He disputed, not moving from his place in front of Evelyn, or on his argument. 

"You're playing the French Open in two days, and you travel the world for a living and-"

"And you want to kiss me right now too," Novak reasoned, to which Evelyn had no response, her mouth agape at the accusation, but she couldn't honestly deny it either. 

She could have sworn that she saw a smirk ghost his lips before Novak leaned down to do what he had said he wanted to do already, and she relaxed as his lips stayed on hers, momentarily forgetting her prior concerns.


	10. Apples and Oranges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grand Slam happenings

"Novak," Evelyn breathed, turning her face away so she wasn't looking at him or his lips. 

"Evelyn, please," he whined, tucking a piece of stray hair behind her ear and trailing his fingers down her neck slowly. She doubted that he knew the torture he was causing her right now.

"Novak," she warned, side stepping to get out of the compromising position she had been in previously. "I can't."

"You can," he argued, following her as she paced the flat. Admittedly, this was not how he had imagined tonight would go, but it was worth the fight. 

"I shouldn't," she disagreed, still pacing restlessly across the floor. Novak now stood stationed calmly by the breakfast bar, ready to refute any argument she might pose. 

"Why not?" He complained, trying to make eye contact, but Evelyn stared at the ground, occasionally running her hands through her dark brown hair, and glancing over to him.

"Because I work for the ATP," she explained, not bothering to look at him while she said it. 

"They have no say in your personal relationships," he reminded. 

She stopped, looking over for long enough to say, "Conflict of interests." And then continued her pacing.

"Not if you don't let it become one. I respect you as a professional, and I assume you feel the same for myself. I won't ask, you don't tell," he solved, standing up and straightening his shoulders. 

Evelyn shook her head, this resolution apparently not satisfactory to her. 

"You're in a different country almost every week for 11 months of the year," she said finally, the pacing stopped and she leaned against the back of the couch. 

"And more than half of those weeks, you're in the same place," he pointed out. "And when you're not, I have a lot of frequent flier miles," he joked, carefully making his way to her, afraid she might be spooked easily. "It's easier to be with someone on tour than to ask them to jet around the world with you, or to wait at home," he added, surely speaking from first hand experience. "I really enjoy the time we spend together, and I'm simply saying we should do it more, and throw a little something else in there too," he shrugged, pretending he was innocent though they both knew what he meant. 

"Novak," Evelyn sighed for what felt like the thousandth time that night. "I'm not opposed to what you're saying, I'm just not sure I'm ready for everything that comes with it."

He squinted at her, obviously confused. A moment of thought gave him an idea of what she was saying though, and he nodded in understanding. 

"So we won't tell anyone," he stated, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "We keep it under wraps for a couple months, more if you want, we do exactly what we've been doing for the past five. Nothing has to change."

Evelyn just shook her head, looking down at her hands that were gripping the sofa. 

"You don't have to make a decision right now," he reminded her softly, using a gentle tone that she knew she hadn't earned. Novak didn't want to pressure her any more than he already had, she seemed almost ready to cry, and that certainly wasn't his aim for tonight, so he walked over to his shoes, sitting on the coffee table to put them on. He was halfway through his left shoe when two hands rested gently on his shoulders. 

"Don't go," Evelyn sighed, burying her face in the crook of his neck, taking him by surprise. 

"No, I'll go," he shook his head, standing up and shaking her off gently. "Just think about it, okay?"

She watched as he left the flat, only stopping to wave a quick goodbye. Upon his exit, she locked the door, and tried to continue reading. She found herself reading the same paragraph over and over, each time, realizing she was only going through the motions, not actually taking in what the words meant together. Each was individual, none working coherently together in her mind. After a fifth try, she gave up the effort, deeming it futile, knowing her mind was elsewhere. Elsewhere in this case being on a certain Serbian tennis player. 

She thought that the flirting was harmless, that he was like this with everyone, but tonight ruined that theory. Maybe this wasn't such a bad thing though. Novak was smart, funny and sweet, they shared similar interests, and they got along well, but he was a professional tennis player, and she'd been down that road before. 

She wanted to talk the situation out with someone, but Felix certainly wasn't an option, and neither was Jake. The obvious answer was Kara, and she was probably the best choice for this ordeal, so she called. 

The phone seemed to ring for hours until Kara picked up, answering with a sunny sounding, "Hi Ev!"

"Hey Kara," Evelyn returned, already smiling at her friends endlessly cheery disposition. "Do you have time? I'm in a weird situation and I wanted your advice."

Kara jumped at the invite, thrilled with the idea of giving Evelyn her advice. Evelyn started in on explaining the Novak debacle, Kara listening patiently on the other end. When she was finished, Kara finally chimed in. 

"If he was just an Average Joe, and he proposed the same thing, would you agree?"

"Yes," Evelyn answered without hesitation. She could hear Kara laughing on the other end. 

"Then the next time you see him, you march right up to him and tell him you're going on a real date," Kara giggled. "None of this beating around the bush stuff, just tell him straight up what you want."

"But he's not just an Average Joe," Evelyn complained, not ready to accept Kara's advice quite yet. 

"Evelyn Helena Abrams," Kara began, pronouncing each syllable carefully. "You are kind, clever, beautiful, and hilarious, and from what I've heard, you give top notch blow jobs," she paused to laugh, but continued before Evelyn could interrupt and ask where she'd heard these things. "If you let Ryan Harrison and his stupid wanna-be beard stop you from going on _one date_ with a gorgeous Serbian tennis player who is throwing himself at your feet, I will get on the next flight to Paris and kick your ass."

Evelyn couldn't help but laugh at her friend's words. 

"It's not just the Ryan thing that freaks me out about this one Kare, but thank you." A pause. "But I will march up to him and ask him on a date the next time I see him," she promised. 

The conversation turned to Kara, who told Evelyn about what her boyfriend, Brent, was up to, and what she was working on, about Max, their cat, and eventually asking what she should get Felix for his birthday, which was next month. Eventually, Evelyn hung up, as it was late for her, and she needed to get to the grounds early tomorrow morning. 

Evelyn was thankful to have Kara's advice, and just hoped she could follow through with it tomorrow. 

***

Evelyn was eating lunch on the first official day of the tournament when she saw Novak. He was lurking in a corner on his phone, probably hiding from conversation with anyone, but Evelyn needed to talk to him, so she walked toward him confidently, clearing her throat to get his attention. 

"Hi," he said, sounding unsure, and looking around him like he was making sure no one was watching, which struck Evelyn as odd, but she proceeded. 

"Let's go on a date," she suggested, boldly. "Like a real date, I don't care what we do, but I want to do it," she rushed, looking up at his face nervously. 

"Evelyn, now's not really a good time for me..." 

She cocked her head to the side, lost. 

"I didn't mean like, right now," she clarified, finding it strange that he interpreted it that way. "We can do it whenever-"

"Marko!" Novak said warmly, looking back to Evelyn and discreetly shaking his head. She remembered Novak saying that Marko was his middle brother the other night, and they shared a family resemblance, so she assumed this was the Marko of legend. Marko smiled and said something in Serbian that Evelyn couldn't catch. Novak shook his head and responded once more in Serbian, and Evelyn backed away, not wishing to interrupt whatever this was, though it seemed too late for that. 

"Wait," Marko told her, looking from Novak to Evelyn suspiciously. "We haven't met before. I'm Marko," he smiled, reaching out his hand to shake hers. Evelyn shook it, and introduced herself. 

"How do you two know each other?" Marko pressed, earning a glare from Novak. 

"I'm a physio for the tour," Evelyn answered confidently. Understanding why Novak had been so cautious earlier, she now turned to him, knowing her way out. "Marian asked me to check up on you after practice tonight. Do you wanna stop by my office, or me to come out to the courts?"

"I'll stop by after," he promised, giving her a polite smile before dragging Marko away. 

As soon as they were away from Evelyn, Marko looked at his older brother, whose face was set in stone it seemed. 

"Seriously, who is she?" Marko asked as soon as Evelyn was out of earshot. Novak continued to glare. 

"She just told you," Novak replied calmly, but he was irritated by his brother's questioning. 

"No, really, how'd you two meet? I thought you already had a physio."

"Marko, I told you he left tour months ago," Novak groaned, annoyed by his apathy now as well. "She joined during Australia, and Marian knew her already, and suggested I use her."

"She's so into you," Marko told him, looking over to where Evelyn was standing with a small group of players across the room now. 

"Maybe," Novak muttered, too quiet for Marko to hear before tuning out his brother as they left the building. 

*** 

After an appointment with Karlovic, and wishing him good luck against Dimitrov, his first opponent, Evelyn checked her phone to see the time, and found a voicemail from Novak instead. She listened. 

_Evelyn, hi. Sorry about the whole players lounge thing, but Marko was there, and I didn't want to explain anything to him, especially if there's nothing to explain, but yeah, we should go on a real date. Call me back when you can, and we can work out a time and everything. Yeah, that's it I guess. Bye._

Evelyn laughed at his awkward message, it contrasted hugely with his real life persona of being smooth and cool. She called back, but went to voicemail, so it was her turn to leave a message. 

_Hey Novak. No worries about earlier, it's totally fine. But yeah, time and place we should figure out. I'm guessing I'll see you later, so we can do it then. Bye._

After his practice, Novak showered and dressed, chatted for a few minutes with his team, and then retreated, heading to the health center to find Evelyn, Garrett and Luka sitting at a far corner playing a game of cards. He couldn't help but laugh at the sight, which drew the attention of the three. 

"What's up Nole?" Garrett asked, not bothering to put his cards down, instead he stayed quite focused on the game. 

"Marion wanted me to get Evelyn to check me out," Novak lied, going along with the line that Evelyn had used earlier. 

"We all want Evelyn to check us out," Garrett sighed wistfully, earning a harsh shove from his fellow patriot. 

"If you leave, we're definitely looking at your cards," Luka warned Evelyn, using English for the sole benefit of Garrett, who didn't speak French. 

"Like one hand is gonna save you from me kicking your ass," she shot back, smirking. "But I'm a professional," she said, laying her cards down and standing up. "So I'm gonna take care of him, and I'll see you two at the real poker night."

Novak protested, insisting that she didn't need to leave the game, but she waved off his offer, leading him out the building and to the fitness center. 

"You know Marion didn't really send me for this, right?" Novak asked halfway through the walk. Evelyn rolled her eyes and nodded. Of course she knew. He was confused as to why they kept going until they reached their destination, which wasn't actually their destination at all, but he shrugged it off. 

"It's a lot easier to talk here than with Garrett and Luka listening in," Evelyn finally said, closing the door to a small room with a training table and not much else in it. Novak watched as she hopped up on the table, immediately arranging her legs to sit criss crossed, a habit of hers he had picked up on.

"True," he nodded, jumping onto the table next to her. "So I know this amazing restaurant in Paris, Spring, and I think it'd be perfect. One catch though," he said, grinning from ear to ear. Evelyn raised an eyebrow, signaling wordlessly for him to finish. "I pay," he said seriously.

"That's fine," she nodded, leaning forward on her elbows and waiting for him to continue. 

"Wednesday night at 7:30?" He asked for confirmation. 

"I can manage that," she agreed. There was a pause and Evelyn sat up straighter, looking at Novak with a playful smile. "Since we're already here, do you want a massage?"

"You may actually be _the_ perfect woman," he joked, both of them laughing. 

***

"This place is beautiful," Evelyn mused after they were seated on the terrace of Spring. The name was not very French, but the decor was classic for the country. Her eyes wandered around the area, taking in every inch of it, while Novak's eyes stayed focused on her. 

"You're beautiful," he blurted without thinking it through. This grabbed her attention, and she looked up at him to confirm he had really just said that. Novak chastised himself for being so stupidly blunt, especially on a first official date. He'd almost scared this girl off several times before, he didn't need to push her any further now. Couldn't he have found some creative way to say it, or quote a famous book or anything besides what he's done? 

"Thanks," she blushed, rearranging her skirt with her hands as a distraction before looking back to him. "You look quite handsome as well," she grinned, making him relax a little. 

"You know what Marko told me right after you left on Monday?" Novak asked, recalling the moment fondly now, though his comments had driven him up the wall at the time. Evelyn cocked her head, and Novak took it as a sign to proceed. "Something along the lines of,'She is so into you'," he chuckled, his laughter infectious, as Evelyn joined in as well. 

"I think Felix told me the same thing about you, but in Miami," she admitted. Novak thought about this information, nodding mostly to himself. 

"He was right," Novak shrugged, and both of them laughed again, though neither was quite sure why they were laughing. 

Their laughing was interrupted by the waiter approaching, offering drinks or hors d'oeuvres. Novak ordered two glasses of champagne, and Evelyn went along with it. A glass wouldn't hurt anyone. 

"Does you family come to all of your tournaments?" Evelyn asked, never recalling seeing Marko or Djordje before, but seeing his parents often. 

"Now that Djordje is out of school, my parents come to a lot more, but my brothers really only attend the big ones," Novak answered. "You wouldn't believe how impossible it is to get away from them for stuff like this," he joked. "I'm a grown man and they still want to know where I'm going."

"That's sweet though, they wanna protect you," Evelyn cracked a smile. She could see the downside of overprotective family, but truly, it was sweet. "What are you doing tonight then?" Evelyn wondered, curious to hear Novak's excuse. 

"I'm having dinner with Boris and his family," Novak told her conspiratorily. She laughed at this, knowing dinner here with her was polar opposite than dinner with the Beckers. 

"You couldn't just tell them you were going on a date?" She queried, interested to hear his response. 

"They'd want to know who it was, and I couldn't give Marko the satisfaction of being right," he explained, and Evelyn shook her head at the reasoning, but smiled none the less. 

***

"Thank you," Evelyn repeated as the two stood at the door of her apartment, she dragged out the last word, smiling like a fool. She was feeling only a little buzzed from the champagne, but it was late, and there was a gorgeous man in front of her who had just taken her out on a very nice date, and she was feeling quite giggly. 

"Thank _you_ ," he retorted, smiling the same stupid smile that she was. 

"You have great teeth," she noted before turning to unlock the flat. Novak followed her inside, but kept his shoes on when Evelyn kicked hers off. 

"Thank you?" He replied, confused with the odd compliment. His tongue subconsciously ran along his straight white teeth. 

"No, really," she insisted, leaning against a counter. "Teeth are like," she though momentarily before continuing. "They're in the top five best features for people to have."

"High praise then," Novak nodded, now paying special attention to Evelyn's teeth, which were straight and white and well proportioned. She was right, teeth were important features. 

"The highest," she agreed, hiding a yawn with her hand. Novak witnessed this and chuckled.

"I've worn you out already?" Novak teased.

"Maybe you're just a boring date," Evelyn shrugged, grinning at his faux outrage. 

"That hurts," he mumbled quietly, a smile still lighting up his face, he clearly wasn't too offended. "I should go," he admitted, leaning down and kissing Evelyn's cheek before straightening out and heading for the door. 

"Thank you," she called after him, truly meaning it, and he grinned back at her before closing the door behind him. 

***

There was a tall, tan boy in the health office when Evelyn entered the next morning, and he jumped on her as soon as she was through the door.

"Hi Evelyn!" He greeted enthusiastically. She was honestly surprised that it had taken Felix this long to track her down. He was usually here the second he arrived on the grounds, but this was a grand slam, and it was important even as a junior. Felix was a favorite coming in since he had won Australia, and had an impressive record on clay, and she wasn't surprised he had been busy with training and prep until now. 

"Hey Fe," she laughed, hugging him back. "How ya feeling?"

"I feel great! Dad and I have been practicing on clay a ton, and I feel ready," he nodded, practically bouncing with each word. "How are you? How was Jake? How's Nole?" He rushed. His boundless energy always did him well on court, but he was a bit hyperactive in regular conversation at times. It was endearing though.

"I'm good, Jake's good, Novak's good as far as I know," she shrugged. "He's your best friend, shouldn't you know?" This was only half a lie, she did know Novak was good, but the duo of Novak and her brother seemed to be in constant communication, whenever she spoke to one, they mentioned the other. It was weird to put it lightly. 

"I was actually gonna go see Djordje later, and Nole tonight. You can come if you want," he offered, lifting an eyebrow suggestively. She shoved him away lightly, pretending the offer wasn't enticing. 

"I have work to do," she shrugged, rearranging the bag on her shoulder. "Anyway, how's Josie?" 

Felix smiled even wider at the mention of the girl's name, which in turn made Evelyn smile. He explained what she'd been up to lately, and how bummed she was to not be able to play here. After he was done drawling on about his girlfriend, which he still refused to admit, he started in on a new topic.

"The number two seed for girls is this girl CC, from California," Felix told her randomly. "You know that she has you listed in her favorite players of all time?" He asked, grinning widely at his sister, even though the question was rhetorical and she obviously didn't know. 

"God, that's so sweet," Evelyn cooed, unable to hide her pleasure over this statement. Reminiscent of a time when she was good enough to be someone favorite player. 

"We hit together the first night we got here, she was crazy nervous. If you see her around, you should give her some advice or something," Felix confided. Evelyn nodded in understanding. 

"It'd be weird to go up to a girl who I've never actually met before to give her advice. I have no clue what she looks like either," she pointed out, and Felix just shrugged, counting it a minor detail. 

"Find her when her practice is ending," he suggested, making Evelyn roll her eyes. Like that was any less creepy.

"I'll see what I can do," she answered, giving Felix another hug before explaining she had to go see Bautista Agut in a few minutes, and she had to split. He nodded understandingly before wandering off in his own direction.

***

There was a cluster of names on the practice court spreadsheet, but after scouring it for a few minutes, Evelyn found CC Bellis on court 13 at 9:45 Saturday morning. She could work that out. After a little time and talking with the right people, she got the coaches number. That night, she called, and a woman answered. 

"Hello?" The woman asked, prompting Evelyn to begin her well planned speech. 

"Hi, this is Evelyn Abrams," she began, not waiting for a response to this before continuing on. "You're CC Bellis' coach, right?"

"Yes, hi, I'm Jelena Pandzic," the woman confirmed, sounding confused. 

"Hi Jelena," Evelyn greeted more formally. "I know this is really none of my business, and that you're working really hard with CC right now, but my brother, Felix, he told me CC was nervous, and that some advice or pointers from me might help her out a little." Evelyn took a deep breath before continuing. "I took the liberty of looking up your practice times, and I was wondering if Saturday I could come out and hit a little with you guys." Another brief pause, and Evelyn added, "Of course if you want to stay on the same regimen I totally understand, and I won't be at all offended."

"Wow," Jelena said, obviously a little lost. "I can't give you an answer right now, because I'll have to talk to CC and her other coach, Leo, obviously, but I think she would really love that," she agreed. "It's very kind of you to offer."

"I'm happy to, it's always fun to get on court with the younger generation," Evelyn smiled, happy to be useful to someone. "I work for the ATP, so I'm usually around tournaments."

"Yeah, of course. I'll talk to the rest of the team, and let you know. Can I reach you at this number?"

"Yeah, this is my cell, so any texts or calls I'll get," she confirmed, and there were brief details and chitchat before they hung up, Evelyn feeling excited about it already, even when it wasn't confirmed. 

She checked the last of her messages and texts before heading out, the most notable being Novak and Felix. She checked Felix's first. 

_Get together tonight at Nole's. Small and chill, I promise. I'd really like to see you more._

Evelyn groaned at the text, knowing that this was a guilt trip to get her to attend. He knew that otherwise she would steer clear and sit alone in her flat for the night, likely reading or watching movies. She had a pretty good hunch that Novak's text said the same thing. She opened it anyway. 

_Having some friends over tonight, I'd really like you to come. We can hang out after too maybe. Felix is coming. Suite 10, top floor at St. Germaine._

After reading the rest of her messages, she headed to the town cars, directing the driver to the Saint Germaine instead of her apartment. 

Upon arrival, she was stopped at the door seeing as she wasn't a guest at the hotel. She tried explaining her situation, but the doorman insisted she needed someone to let her in. 

She called Novak, knowing that he could call the front desk and get her in. His French was great, and he was a high profile guest, a killer combination for this particular problem. 

"Hey Evelyn," Novak answered sounding too friendly. She shook off the odd greeting and explained her problem to him briefly. He agreed to take care of it, and she waited patiently, looking into the warm hotel and waiting for the phone to ring, the desk clerk to answer, and then to come and let her in. She waited for what felt like ages, the doorman looking at her doubtfully, clearly judging her over the matter, but then again, he was a doorman at a French hotel, and she had a four year degree and a PhD, so maybe his judgment shouldn't bother her so much. It still did. 

Evelyn was still watching the desk clerks when a guest emerged from the far door. Briefly, she glanced over, seeing Novak standing there with that stupid grin on his face. 

"She's my guest," Novak told the doorman, who was clearly surprised to see anyone, much less Novak come to retrieve the girl. 

"Sir," the man bowed, allowing them both back in. 

Once inside, Evelyn looked at Novak like he was crazy, and maybe he was. 

"You could've just called the front desk," she dead panned, shaking her head at the event he insisted on making of this. They reached the elevators and stepped in to the first open one. 

As soon as the doors closed Novak smiled mischievously. 

"If I called the front desk I couldn't do this," he explained, leaning over to kiss her. 

Evelyn kissed him back, her hand finding it's way to the back of his neck and the other rested on his shoulder. 

"And how much fun would that be?" He breathed finally, breaking the kiss momentarily to smile at her as he said the words before leaning back in. 

At the sound of the elevator doors opening, they separated quickly, laughing amongst themselves at their secret encounter. Novak led the way to his room, but before he could open it, Evelyn reached up, fixing his hair for him before nodding in approval. 

"Thanks," he smiled genuinely, then he looked away and opened the door. There were five other people visible in the room. They weren't kidding about the small thing. 

Felix sat with a dark haired boy on a couch across the room, his appearance giving him away as Djordje, Novak's youngest brother. Marko was with Andy Murray, and another guy she didn't recognize. 

Evelyn followed Novak's lead, sitting across from Andy, the stranger, and Marko. After the two sat down, Djordje and Felix reseated themselves in the middle of their respective siblings. 

Greetings were thrown around, and the unfamiliar face was in fact James, a fellow Brit of Andy's. 

The group chatted and laughed until Djordje turned on Top Gear, enthralling the rest of the crowd. Again, the group repositioned, now working to face the TV most directly. 

The end result was Marko in a far chair, lounging comfortably, Felix, James, Novak and Evelyn all seated on the couch, while Andy and Djordje bickered over who got the floor and who got the remaining chair. 

"What kind of car do you drive?" Novak asked, the question meant for Evelyn, but James answered it for himself. 

"2008 BMW X5, manual," he said proudly. This started a hearty debate on the advantages of manual versus automatic. Evelyn didn't bother arguing either side, though to be honest, she prefered an automatic, but sometimes they just weren't reasonable. She let the boys fight it out.

"A Tesla," Evelyn whispered to Novak, her breath hot on his ear. He nodded thoughtfully, not looking over to her, but facing Jeremy Clarkson as he explained his great detest for Bentley, even though the car he was driving wasn't a Bentley. 

Novak casually draped an arm around the back of the sofa, his fingers brushing slowly against the back of Evelyn's neck with no one the wiser, save Evelyn of course. 

As the credits rolled, Murray looked seriously to Novak, who's hand suddenly disappeared from Evelyn's neck, but he didn't seem to notice. 

"Look, I know we're trying to be all manly and stuff, but season six of Parks and Rec is out on Netflix so can we watch that instead?" Andy looked hopeful as he asked, looking around the room for support on the topic. 

There was a general consensus, and the remote was relinquished to Andy, who figured out a way to pull up Netflix, then select his desired show. 

"Can we turn the lights off?" Marko whined. "This glare is killing me." 

Novak waved a hand dismissively, and Marko took this as a yes. He stood and flicked a few different switches before the room went dark, and he returned to his seat happily. 

In the darkness, Evelyn rearranged herself, back now resting against the arm of the sofa, legs resting partially in Novak's lap. He chuckled at her new position, but did nothing to change it. In a matter of minutes, Novak's arms where resting on her legs, which were covered in surprisingly soft denim. Subconsciously, one hand sat on her knee, thumb rubbing gently back and forth, a small intimacy that went unnoticed by the rest of the room.

After two episodes of Parks and Rec, Andy stood, stretching out and walking over to the lights, flicking them on so he could see better. There was a small groan of complaint at the sudden brightness of the room, but soon enough the rest of the group was up and lumbering around. 

"I should go, but thanks mate, this was nice," Andy yawned, nodding at Novak. A chorus of goodbyes was said, and the rest of the group slowly admitted it was time for them to depart as well. 

Evelyn, Djordje and Felix left together, leaving Marko and Novak together. 

"Hey, Nole," Marko called back into the kitchen where Novak had retreated to. His head appeared around the corner as he leaned out of the kitchen to hear whatever Marko had to say. "I think Elizabeth left her phone here," he explained, holding up the phone, gesturing to the flowery case that protected it to explain his guess. "Should I call Felix and ask him to come get it?"

"Evelyn," Novak corrected his brother once more. "I'm pretty sure that's her personal phone. Just leave it on the table. If she doesn't come back for it, I'll bring it to her tomorrow."

"That's nice of you," Marko said suspiciously.

"She gives the best massages on tour," Novak shrugged noncommittaly before finishing, "I gotta stay on her good side."

Marko accepted this, joining Novak in the kitchen, and fetching himself an apple from the basket of fruit the hotel had provided. He started to say something, but thought better of it, closing his mouth once again. 

"I should go make sure Djordje isn't doing something stupid," Marko decided finally, stepping out of the kitchen. "Thanks for the apple," he added, holding up the shiny fruit before waving goodbye.


	11. Soft Words

Novak arrived at the grounds early Friday morning, he had every intention of returning Evelyn's phone and then heading to the gym to meet Gerard for some training. The health center was quiet, the only sounds coming from the ajar door of Evelyn's office. Honestly, he wasn't surprised she was here this early. Her work ethic was admirable. 

Cautiously, he pushed the door further open, revealing Evelyn sitting at the desk, writing furiously in a notebook. Not the notebook she normally used, but a bright cobalt colored one. Her phone was pressed between her ear and her shoulder, and she looked up only long enough to smile at Novak's entrance before looking back to the notebook. 

Novak crept forward, not speaking so as not to interrupt the phone call. 

"Really, it's no hassle for me, I would love to see your game," Evelyn insisted to the person on the other line. She had stopped writing now, the pen twirling around her fingers impressively. Novak briefly wondered where she'd picked up the skill. 

Evelyn pointed to him, and he smiled an over the top smile, to which she simply shook her head, but a smile ghosted on her lips as well now. Next she pointed to herself, then to the phone she was holding in her hand. 

"Oh, you want this?" Novak whispered to her, pulling out the phone with the flowered case from his pocket. She nodded, only half paying attention as she held out her hand for the device. 

Novak pocketed the phone once more, walking around the other side of Evelyn. She swiveled in her chair to face him, giving him a frustrated stare. 

"It was really all Felix's idea, I'm just taking part," Evelyn explained sweetly, a stark contrast from the sour look on her face. Novak grinned at the whole situation. 

"Yeah, he's a sweetheart," Evelyn agreed, mouthing to Novak a harsh, _not you._

Novak frowned, clutching at his heart dramatically to show how hurt he was. Evelyn rolled her eyes and turned away, looking back at the desk. 

"I'm excited about it too," Evelyn confirmed, picking up the pen again and drawing randomly on the side of the page. Novak leaned over to her and left a kiss on her cheek, successfully grabbing her attention, and she turned to hit his arm, though the smile on her face revealed that she wasn't truly irritated, so he persisted in his pestering, resting his hands on her shoulders and gently massaging. At first she protested, trying to pull away, but after a moment, gave in. Who could turn down a shoulder rub after all? 

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow morning then," Evelyn said decidedly, then ended the call, dropping the phone with the plain black case on her desk and leaning back in the chair, enjoying the massage for just a second longer before stopping the hands. 

"Good morning," Novak greeted pleasantly, smiling at Evelyn and ignoring the half hearted glare she was giving him. 

"Can I have my phone now?" She questioned, holding out her hand expectantly once more. 

"Can you ask nicely?" He mocked lightly, clearly pleased with himself and the upper hand that he had here. Evelyn frowned. 

"Can I _please_ have my phone?" 

__"Of course," he answered, overly enthusiastic, reaching into his pocket to aquire the phone and handing it to Evelyn cordially._ _

__"Thank you," she smiled in a sarcastic tone, but she approached him, standing on her tip toes to peck his lips before returning to her seat, closing the blue notebook and replacing it with her regular black one. "Good luck against Jo tomorrow," she added, glancing up at Novak to add a smile to the statement._ _

__"Are you coming?" He wondered, leaning against the desk casually. Everything he did was casual. He was to nonchalance as Rafa was to clay. They just went together. Everything with him was so effortless, from his on court endeavors to his everyday activities._ _

__"I'll try to make it," Evelyn nodded, more concerned with how gorgeous he looked freshly shaved than what she was saying, but who could blame her._ _

__"I'll see you later then?" He asked, looking at her seriously. A smile resulted from the long look, and Evelyn flushed pink._ _

__"Yeah, later," she agreed, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. With that, Novak exited, leaving Evelyn with her thoughts._ _

__***_ _

__The phone buzzed and buzzed in her pocket, but Evelyn stayed focused on wrapping Gael's leg. It needed to be precise, like wrapping a grip on a racket, one imperfection and it would drive you crazy. Gael noticed too though, looking down at Evelyn and asking, "Do you want to get that?"_ _

__"No, it would be amazing if you could decline the call actually. The phone's in my bag," she explained, her words coming out a little distorted by the scissors being held between her teeth. Gael followed these instructions, leaning carefully over to the bag, making sure he didn't displace his leg in the process, and then fishing out the phone._ _

__"It's Novak," he informed, turning the screen towards her so she could see for herself. She shook her head, signaling to decline the call anyway. "Nice picture," he commented before clicking reject._ _

__"Rafa took it," she explained, pulling the wrap tight with one hand and grabbing the scissors with the other, carefully cutting the fabric, then tucking it away so the wrap would stay in place. Evelyn was very meticulous about these things, but Gael could appreciate that about her, he, along with the rest of the players on tour that worked with her that was._ _

__"I think that's it for you," Evelyn smiled, standing up from her previous crouch. "Have Patrick call me if you want this before your match tomorrow, and if I don't see you before that, good luck," she told him, gesturing vaguely to his leg, but he understood anyway. He nodded, and thanked her one last time before he went to his practice._ _

__As he was leaving, her bag started buzzing, again, and Evelyn rolled her eyes at Novak's persistence, but pulled out the phone anyway. It wasn't Novak though, it was CC._ _

__"Hi CC," Evelyn answered, putting away the materials she'd been using prior and holding the phone with her shoulder._ _

__"Hi, I just won my match!" CC rushed out, and Evelyn could almost hear the smile in her voice as she said it._ _

__"Congratulations!" Evelyn cooed back, smiling for the girl. She shrugged her now reassembled bag over her shoulder and left the room, flicking the lights off as she passed the switch._ _

__The sun outside was blaring, and she suddenly wished she had sunglasses. She'd have to start carrying a pair with her._ _

__"Thanks," CC giggled, clearly still on the high of winning. "The whole team is going out for a victory dinner, I know it's only the second round, but it feels good, you know?" She paused now, trying to think of her original purpose. "We wanted to invite you though, for practice, you know? And Felix if he can come."_ _

__"Of course, I'd love to," Evelyn agreed. She didn't need convincing to attend any victory dinner. They were her favorite meals, it was always lighthearted, and friendly, the post match glow still there. Everyone was happy, and positive. She missed victory dinners._ _

__Now, CC hashed out the details, insisting that Evelyn should come with CC and her mother, which Evelyn was more than happy to do. CC was a sweetheart, and Evelyn had no qualms about spending some extra time together, especially when considering they would likely only see each other a few times a year. They agreed to meet in the health center in half an hour, which gave Evelyn time to figure out her schedule._ _

__At the health center, Evelyn pulled out her laptop, one adorned only with a USTA sticker in the upper right hand corner. It seemed only appropriate._ _

__"Knock knock," an accented voice called. Evelyn looked up to see Novak in jeans and a polo, standing in her doorway, which now seemed to be becoming a habit of his._ _

__"Nice win today," Evelyn grinned, stopping what she was doing to look at him when she said it. "Worth attending," she added, now looking back to her computer screen, rearranging names and times, though it was late enough that most were already for tomorrow. Only one needed to be changed._ _

__"Thanks," he smiled, leaning against the door frame, waiting for her to look up again before he continued. At the silence, she glanced up, waiting for him to speak, which eventually he did. "I'm having a victory dinner tonight, I came to give you your cordial invitation."_ _

__"Tonight?" She frowned, checking the corner of her screen to see the time, which said she only had a few minutes before CC got here. Novak confirmed with a nod, looking at her oddly, like this should be obvious to her, and it should have been. "Nov, I'm sorry, I'm going to another dinner tonight," she frowned, closing the laptop and standing up._ _

__"For who?" He asked, sounding more surprised than anything._ _

__"This junior girl, CC, I was on the phone with her yesterday. She's gonna be here soon."_ _

__"Okay, well I'm heading out with Marian now. After my next match?" Novak wore a self assured grin, but there was just enough humble undertones to keep it from being cocky. He backed towards the door, making his point about leaving even more clear._ _

__"Unless I get a better offer." Evelyn's tone was complacent, but her eyes sparkled with mischief when she said it, clearly trying to get a reaction of some sort. Novak was on to her plan though, and simply blew a kiss over dramatically at her before stepping out._ _

__***_ _

___[6] Andrey Rublev (RUS) d. [3] Felix Abrams (USA) in Roland Garros boys quarter-final: 5-7, 7-5, 6-4 ____ _

___"Hey, he outlasted Federer," Novak shrugged, trying to think of something to say to shed some light on the situation. Felix would have to learn to take more heart wrenching losses than that. Novak imagined some day, there would be a five set final, one that lasted for what felt like decades, every point played out for days, and he would be so close that he could taste the victory, only to have it snatched away from him. That's when you know heartbreak. That is when you know loss. He didn't say any of this though, because he had Felix's sleep deprived sister curled up in a ball on the couch of his hotel room, mumbling incoherently into a pillow._ _ _

___"Why do you keep bringing that up?" She wondered, lifting her head just slightly so she wasn't speaking directly into the pillow._ _ _

___"You seem upset about it. I thought you wanted to talk about it." The words came out confused, but they were sweet, and genuine. Novak was a little hopeless, but so were all boys, so Evelyn couldn't mind it too much._ _ _

___"I'd rather talk about you winning," she replied, looking up with a cheesy smile that Novak chuckled at the sight of. "That backhand winner down the line," she started, speaking into the pillow once again. "He didn't even have a chance."_ _ _

___She continued replaying the highlights of the match, featuring only Novak's in her version, though she did like Milos. Her voice was oddly sultry, even when half obscured by the pillow, and her words were carefully chosen. The mood in the room had suddenly changed, and Novak wasn't sure about any of it._ _ _

___"Okay, yeah I get it," Novak stopped her, almost flustered, with nothing to blame but the words. He crossed her legs awkwardly, and Evelyn let out a quiet laugh from the other side of the couch. She couldn't have known what she had been doing... Could she? God, that was hot. And frustrating. But mostly hot._ _ _

___Evelyn rose, stretching her arms over her head, causing her pale green shirt to reveal her torso, which was perfectly flat, and tan, no doubt a result from both Florida and a demanding workout regimen. She looked more awake now than five minutes before when she was practically passed out from exhaustion, but that wasn't saying a whole lot._ _ _

___"Can't wait to see you play Ernie." Her grin as she said this was like that of the Cheshire Cat. Like she knew something he didn't, and wasn't letting on. Maybe she did._ _ _

___"You're tired," Novak sighed, standing up and putting his hands out to help her up. "We should get you to bed."_ _ _

___"What gave me away?" The sarcastic bite in her tone was harsh, but not malicious. She accepted his hands, being pulled up easily by Novak, who was five inches taller and significantly heavier._ _ _

___As he watched her carefully lace up her black Converse, Novak wished he could tell her to just stay here. He'd sleep on the couch, or better yet for his back, the floor. Not that he'd mind sharing a bed, he always liked someone huddled close to him under the sheets, even if they were fully clothed. The invitation had a huge margin for misinterpretation though, And he couldn't risk that just yet. Evelyn would of course wave away the offer, insisting that she could make it back to her flat easily, and he shouldn't worry about her. Not that this would stop him._ _ _

___"Send me a text when you get back to your flat," Novak insisted, giving Evelyn a rare serious look, to which she simply rolled her eyes._ _ _

___"Bye." Evelyn yawned as she said the word, covering her mouth to try to be polite. Novak laughed at her attempt, planting a soft kiss on her cheek before she left._ _ _

___***_ _ _

___"I didn't realize I made house calls these days." Evelyn's words were harsh, and cold, but her annoyance was short lived, Marian pulling her into a hug in greeting. She never could stay mad at him. For everything he was, he was good at heart, and Evelyn knew it._ _ _

___Novak was on the couch, deep in conversation with Boris. Gerard was jotting something carefully in a notebook not unlike the one Evelyn used, and Djordje was sitting on his phone at the breakfast bar._ _ _

___"Let's go, Novak," Evelyn sighed, like this was way too much work for her, motioning for him to stand. "Can I have this couch?" She directed the question towards Gerard, who easily gave up his spot in the couch in favor of sitting next to Djordje at the counter. She motioned for Novak to lie down, which he did. Evelyn knelt at the side of the couch and setting to work, kneading gently at his back, paying special attention to the lower spine and shoulder blade areas._ _ _

___"Thanks," Novak dismissed after his back felt the relief of the massage. He let it go on fr a little longer than he really needed, but it just felt so good. Rolling onto his back now, Novak continued taking up the entire couch._ _ _

___"That's it?" Evelyn looked around the room expectantly. Three sets of eyes looked back at her, clearly confused. Marian averted his eyes, and Novak's eyes were closed, like he was trying to take a nap._ _ _

___"For today," Boris nodded. "Thank you."_ _ _

___"Saturday is your day off! We'll bring in another physio, don't worry about it." Evelyn mocked, slipping into French to hide her frustration from the others in the room. Novak chuckled from the couch, eyes still closed._ _ _

___"Sorry," he apologized. "We didn't know, or we would've gotten someone else," he added, quickly changing to French after the apology._ _ _

___"It's not your fault your crazy coaches don't check my schedule before calling. I still could've said no, it's my fault." Novak laughed again at her first comment, the rest of the room lost on the conversation due to not knowing the language._ _ _

___"You're already here, just stay with us. You're part of the team." Novak's change from French to English caught the others by surprise, especially with what he was saying._ _ _

___"If you're staying, do you have any remedies for a virus?" Marian interrogated seriously. Evelyn glanced around the room._ _ _

___"Who's sick?"_ _ _

___Novak raised a guilty hand at the question._ _ _

___"No," Evelyn groaned. Novak couldn't be sick the day before his French Open final._ _ _

___"I told him you only get sick from kissing the wrong people," Marian told Evelyn with a smile that was entirely too lighthearted for the situation at hand. When she had lived with him, he would tease Evelyn with the supposed fact whenever she wasn't feeling well._ _ _

___"I've heard that," she agreed, nodding in Marian's direction. "Who've you been kissing?" Now looking at Novak, the question hung between them, Evelyn smirking, Novak raised an eyebrow, almost like he was asking, 'do you really want to know?' But of course, she knew._ _ _

___Novak shrugged at the question, collapsing onto the couch again and closing his eyes._ _ _

___"Brushing your teeth with Sprite will actually help," Evelyn added absently, answering Marian's earlier question. Again, the room looked at her like she was crazy. "The can is sterile, so brushing your teeth with the contents means that you're minimizing the potential to make the problem worse. You're supposed to wash your mouth with hard alcohol and then brush your teeth with canned soda."_ _ _

___"There is no way I'm doing that," Novak told them firmly from his lounging place on the couch._ _ _

___"That's not how alcohol or soda are supposed to be used, Evelyn," Marian laughed, the rest of the room laughing with him._ _ _

___"I have a fun game, raise your hand if you have a minor in biology." Evelyn looked around the room confirming what she already knew. After a period of silence, Djordje's laugh rang out around the room. He stood up and rummaged through the cupboards until he found a bottle of vodka that had been hidden away, then pulled a can of Coke out of the fridge._ _ _

___"Nole, get your toothbrush," the boy demanded, smiling the whole time. Novak was on the couch, grumbling about the whole thing, but stood and walked to another room only to return with a toothbrush and paste._ _ _

___"You should wash the toothbrush in the vodka to kill any germs on it," Evelyn instructed, joining Djordje at the counter now. Djordje went back to the cupboards and found a plastic cup, pouring enough in so the toothbrush could be submerged._ _ _

___"This is insane," Novak reminded Evelyn. She only smiled at him._ _ _

___"Don't swallow," Evelyn told Novak when she handed him a new, clean, glass of the vodka. He raised an eyebrow at the wording, and Evelyn hit him lightly before urging him on._ _ _

___"You're gonna have to swallow for this," he growled, just loud enough for Evelyn and no one else to hear. He looked pleased with his comment, and Evelyn just stared back at him with a small smile so as not to raise questions about what Novak had just said._ _ _

___The look on Novak's face when he first started brushing with the soda was priceless, and Evelyn couldn't help but snap a photo with her phone. The whole team now had migrated to the kitchen to watch the spectacle, and there was a howling laughter from the group, excluding Novak, who wore a sour look on his face, whether it was the taste, or the group laughing at his suffering, Evelyn couldn't tell._ _ _

___"You're fun to have around," Djordje joked after Novak had finished with Evelyn's remedy. The conversation slowly faded from the vodka and soda combination, but Evelyn enjoyed the time none the less. Novak was in and out of conversation, he napped for a long part of the time they were there. She'd seen Rafa this morning, seeing as no one bothered checking her schedule, and he seemed healthy and ready to take on the world. She just hoped Novak could get it together for a few hours tomorrow, to put up a good fight._ _ _

___***_ _ _

____Rafael Nadal wins 9th French Open title, defeating Novak Djokovic 3-6, 7-5, 6-2, 6-4 to remain world number 1 ____ _ _

____Evelyn didn't stick around after the match to see either of the finalists. She was happy for Rafa, but it was painful to watch some of it. She could see Novak trying to be strong out on the court, but he was deteriorating bit by bit, and everyone in the stadium knew it. She didn't send him a text, and she didn't call. She knew he would spend the night in all likelihood getting wasted and avoiding everyone and everything with a heartbeat. She could respect that. So at 10:21 that night, when she got a call from him, she was more than a little surprised._ _ _ _

____"Hi Nov," she greeted cautiously. There was silence on the other end of the line, but she continued to wait. She refused to ask the unforgivable question: 'are you okay'._ _ _ _

____"Can I come over?" His words were slow and deliberate, and Evelyn wondered if he was a little drunk. She couldn't blame him honestly._ _ _ _

____"Of course." She answered the question entirely too quickly, but he wasn't in the state to care about something so minor. He wanted to be away from his family, and coaches and the rest of the pack. He wanted to not think about it for one night. He would have the rest of his like to replay that match, he was allowed one night to get away from it._ _ _ _

____So Novak Djokovic got himself a cab to Evelyn's temporary apartment, and knocked decisively on the door._ _ _ _

____"Hey," Evelyn greeted, pulling him into the flat, which was neatly packed away now, like the first night he's visited her here._ _ _ _

____Novak looked miserable, and tired, and a little tipsy. He looked like someone who didn't want to discuss his problems but had been forced to talk about them all night. Having mercy on the man, Evelyn didn't wait for a response, but instead, reached up to kiss him. His lips were soft, and tainted ever so faintly with tequila, but this didn't bother her. Novak kissed back with determination, and a hint of desperation. He pushed Evelyn backwards until they both fell onto the couch. Normally, they would be all laughs and giggles about this, but tonight was different. Evelyn carefully rearranged herself so she was straddling Novak's lap, never removing herself from the kiss for more than a moment. She could tell he needed this._ _ _ _

____" _Fuck ___," Novak moaned, falling back against the couch for a moment. She could tell by the silence he was thinking, and thinking was dangerous in these situations. Evelyn leaned over, nipping lightly at his collar bone and the base of his neck, just soft enough to not leave marks. Her lips left a line of gentle kisses up his neck to his ear, where she nibbled once more before resting her forehead on his and waiting for him to make the next move. Her hands sat against his stomach, slowly pushing his shirt up his chest._ _ _ _

_____He stared at her, his chest rising and falling slowly under her soft hands. After what felt to Evelyn like an eternity, his eyes closed, and he pressed his lips to hers again, starting tourtourously slow, just when things sped up, he pulled away, and simply looked at Evelyn for a few moments before leaning in and starting over again._ _ _ _ _

_____"Have you had anything but alcohol tonight?" Evelyn asked suddenly when Novak pulled away to look at her again. He only shook his head. Evelyn leaned in for another kiss, taking control this time, making it hot, and heavy. She ground her hips into his, accentuating the bludge that had grown there. When she pulled away, she looked at Novak seriously and told him, "You need a steak and a blowjob. Not in that order."_ _ _ _ _

_____Novak's eye's went wide like dinner plates, and his mouth hung open. Evelyn grinned at this reaction, knowing that if he was thinking about the match before, he certainly wasn't now._ _ _ _ _

_____Evelyn's hands busied themselves with Novak's jeans. She silently thanked god he wasn't wearing a belt, because she seemed a lot less smooth when she was fumbling around with the buckle for five minutes before she could get it off._ _ _ _ _

_____Novak was quite helpful in the matter, kicking them off as soon as Evelyn popped the button. Teamwork at its finest. Evelyn slid her hands under the waistband of his black boxer briefs, palms against his outer thighs. The look in his eyes was so helpless, Evelyn couldn't bring herself to tease him anymore. She pushed them down, Novak discarding them for her, and then watching Evelyn position herself between his legs._ _ _ _ _

_____"Ev," Novak moaned, his hands slipping into her hair as her lips surrounded him. She didn't protest, but rather continued, trying to learn what worked for Novak. Ryan liked to be rough, Zane loved things slow, with a huge buildup, and Jake liked to be teased. Novak she didn't know yet, she was just testing him out. He seemed to be traditional, or maybe he just let it come off like that. Whatever he was, it only took a few minutes to find ecstasy. Evelyn worked her tongue flat against his shaft and sucked, which finished him off. He was panting and covered in a layer of cold sweat, and finishing had never felt so good. Maybe losing a grand slam does that for you._ _ _ _ _

_____Evelyn swallowed, remembering Novak's comment from the other day and following through. She felt like she needed to brush her teeth, but that could wait. She rose from her knees, leaning over to peck Novak's lips lightly. He was still breathing hard, and in a post orgasm state. Maybe Kara had heard right..._ _ _ _ _

_____"You should shower," Evelyn instructed. "I'll get dressed."_ _ _ _ _

_____Novak grabbed onto her wrist, pulling her back in his direction._ _ _ _ _

_____"Stay here," he pleaded with her, though he didn't need to beg. Evelyn figured the shower might be a bad place for Novak right now, so maybe staying here wasn't such a bad idea._ _ _ _ _

_____"I'm just going to get into pajamas then," Evelyn promised him, scampering off to find the flannel bottoms and t-shirt she used as sleep wear. She changed as quickly as possible, not wanting Novak to spend too much time alone, or else all of her work would be erased. After changing, she did allow time to brush her teeth quickly before returning to the living room area, where Novak now sat with just his boxers and t-shirt. Not that Evelyn minded._ _ _ _ _

_____"Are you hungry? I can cook something, or just order food, it doesn't matter."_ _ _ _ _

_____Novak shook his head, and she dropped the subject._ _ _ _ _

_____"Let's watch a movie," Evelyn suggested, grabbing the TV remote before joining Novak on the sofa. They scanned the movies before settling on the Dark Knight. Who didn't love Christian Bale after all?_ _ _ _ _

_____Evelyn cuddled into Novak's chest, and she could feel the soft kisses he peppered her hair with, and a delicate finger tracing up and down her spine. While it was a definite contrast to their previous activities, neither could deny that this was nice. Evelyn captured one of Novak's hands with hers, and they sat intertwined in Evelyn's lap, Novak's thumb making gentle circles on her hand. Evelyn periodically reached over for a kiss, but for the most part, they watched the movie undisturbed. As the credits rolled, Novak made a soft whining sound, grabbing Evelyn's attention._ _ _ _ _

_____It was now 1:38 AM, and Novak knew he would more than likely have to leave now. He didn't want to face the outside world just yet._ _ _ _ _

_____"You look exhausted." Evelyn's comment was obvious, but accurate. Novak was expecting something along the lines of, you should go get some sleep. See you at Wimbledon. Instead, Evelyn surprised him, saying, "Let's go to sleep."_ _ _ _ _

_____Novak was surprised, but a good surprised. He got to stay with his girlfriend for one night, which was a miracle in and of itself seeing their schedules and that Evelyn insisted he stay away before his matches. He followed her to the bedroom, and they fell onto the mattress, both tired from a long two weeks._ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a lame chapter I know, I'm trying to get somewhere here, I promise.


	12. Wimbledon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wimbledon starts and memories are brought up

Wimbledon came entirely too fast, and not fast enough. On the first night of the tournament, Evelyn went to dinner with the other physicians. A catch up date of sorts, despite only being separated by two weeks. The restaurant was one frequented by tennis players during this time. It had quite the reputation, and it lived up to it. It hadn't been Evelyn's pick. In fact, being at Wimbledon hadn't really been Evelyn's pick. She'd tried to get the two weeks off, saying they should bring in more PTs instead of just her, and maybe let her get a nice break. Shockingly, the ATP had not felt the same way. 

Francisco had wanted to know why she so desperately wanted to avoid this tournament. The real reason was because she didn't want to walk the grounds, to see familiar lockers, and delicacies. She didn't want to look at the wall of champions, and she certainly didn't want to talk about it. The board insisted though, and here she was, in familiar territory, though not friendly territory. 

The men that surrounded her knew well enough not to say anything, or maybe they just didn't know. Either way, she was happier not talking about it. 

The only positive was seeing Felix, and Novak, but she still hadn't exactly told Felix about Novak, and she wasn't sure she was ready to either. On the flip side, Novak hadn't told his family about her either. She was thankful to him for that, and she knew that it must be strange for him, they were close, so keeping something this important from them was hard, but he had insisted they wait until she was comfortable. 

Now, as she surveyed the room again, she spotted Novak, sitting with his entire entourage. For a moment, her eyes lingered, but as soon as he turned her way, she averted her stare, looking once more to her hands that rested quietly in her lap. She consciously made an effort not to look his way again. Garrett had asked if something was up between them in Paris, but she had denied it, and he'd left it, assuming he was just reading too much into it. Regardless, there was no need to give anyone any more reason to suspect something. 

Novak, it seemed, had no such reserves though. As Evelyn was walking past his table, pretending to be listening to some conversation that Luka and Marcel were having, he called out, grabbing not only her attention, but the attention of her party, as well as his. 

"Hey Novak," she smiled politely, acting pleasantly surprised to see him, like they hadn't talked since Roland Garros, instead of every day in between. She waved the rest of her group forward, signaling that she'd be there with them soon. They continued. 

"Are you still making house calls, my shoulder could really use the attention, and I don't know when I can get to your office." The words were not what they seemed, which became glaringly obvious with the wink he ended his sentence with. 

"I can probably swing that. When were you thinking?" Evelyn's subconscious was screaming at her to stay calm, not to show anything to the rest of the people sitting at this table with him. 

"Send me a text whenever you can come over, and we can work something out." He shrugged, like this was a normal conversation, and he was hiding nothing. His smirk said otherwise. She nodded, praying that she could leave now, and his harassing would be via text, and not in front of a crowd that included his mother. No such luck, in fact, his mother was the reason she had to stay. Like any good mother, she wanted to know who this charming young girl was, and how they knew each other. Evelyn was happy to stand and smile, nodding along with Novak's explanation. Maybe happy wasn't the right word, but oh well. 

As soon as she was able to back away from them, she did, meeting the rest of the guys in the front. They went their seperate ways now, some staying with players, friends, or at a hotel. Evelyn got a taxi to the flat she'd rented here, happy to have more room than a normal hotel would provide. 

Inside she began unpacking. She hung up clothes in the closet, and arranged things in the dresser. She set up the bathroom like she would one at home, and it felt nice to be living out of a flat instead of a suitcase for once. 

She surveyed the clothes that were now hanging up, thinking to herself that she would have to exchange with Kara soon. They had a system going where they mailed clothes back and forth, because obviously Evelyn couldn't wear the same things every other week. 

As soon as she started contemplating an outfit for Sunday, her phone vibrated from the bed where it had been discarded earlier that night. She half expected it to be Novak, and secretly, she hoped that expectation held true. The goofy picture that was displayed on her phone was of Felix though, proving that she was wrong. She thought momentarily about ignoring the call. She knew exactly why he was calling, and she still didn't want to talk about it. 

Evelyn quickly chastised herself for thinking this way though, and answered the call. It was exactly what she thought it would be about, but Felix didn't mention it once. Somehow, everyone avoiding the topic makes it a million times worse. 

In bed that night, Evelyn left music playing in the background so she could fall asleep to someone else's words in her head for once. She wished so badly that she would wake up in Florida, in her own bed, with the sometimes unreasonably warm weather, and sticky humidity, go for a walk with Kara, their tradition when they were both home, and maybe go see some old friends. The reality of the situation did not allow for the fantasy though, and when she woke up, she woke up in a tiny London apartment, in a bed less comfortable than her own, with a job to do. 

Just focus on the players she repeated in her head as she prepared herself for the day. If she just focused on what was at hand, she could handle the first week at the very least. 

She learned more about the people she was working with on the first day than she had in months and for some, even years of knowing them. Speaking about someone else, and their dreams, and life was interesting, and helped take her mind off the daunting fact that she was here again. Where it all started, and where it all ended. But then again, this was the place that had brought her back on tour in some ways. She would not let the people she had grown to care for do to themselves what she had done. And for that reason, there was a little pleasure mixed in with the pain. She was an ounce of prevention for these men, and she could live with that. 

Her afternoon schedule called for court time with Novak, who was practicing with Milos. 

The first thing she heard when she got on court was a flurry of Serbian. It was hard to remember that Milos was of the same origin as Novak sometimes. Marian was nowhere to be found, and to be totally honest, Boris kind of creeped her out, so she moved towards the two men, trying to pick up any words that she could. She was a language fanatic, but she was by no means fluent in Serbian, though she could pick out basic phrases. 

The first thing she heard was something along the lines of, 'so hot'. 

"It's not even that bad out," she interjected, rolling her eyes at their drama. This heat was nothing. 

This caught their attention, both looking at Evelyn then back at each other. A sly smile grew on Novak's face, and he quickly explained something to Milos, who chuckled. Evelyn was lost now, and they all knew it. 

"He wasn't talking about the weather," Milos explained, the same half knowing grin on his face. Evelyn looked between the two of them before shrugging it off, causing more laughs from the men. 

"I came here to help prevent injury, not learn Serbian," Evelyn reminded them, frowning at their very un-manly giggles. After the laughter stopped, they put on game faces, going through Evelyn's warm up with ease. Every so often, they whispered something to the other, then laughed like schoolboys, but she allowed it. They had never had the chance to be schoolboys, it was fair to let them be in these fleeting moments. They rarely got them. She knew. 

Leaving them be for practice, she attended to the needs of other player, then returned to the court for warm downs. The boys were finishing up, and near the end of the of the warm down, the next player who had reserved the court showed up. Evelyn had her back turned to them, but she could tell who it was from the sound of their voice. She cringed. This was absolutely the last thing she needed. 

"Can't have anyone cramping up now, can we?" Ryan asked rhetorically when Evelyn went to grab her bag. 

To the rest of the people here, the words had no innuendos, but rather a blunt observation. Both Ryan and Evelyn knew better though. As soon as the words rolled off his tongue, she knew exactly what he was saying. It wasn't in a good natured joking way, but more so in an 'I know what you did last summer' accusatory way. She felt like she was going to throw up, and he hadn't even said ten words. She rushed off court and out of sight before Ryan could dig up more memories that were better left buried. 

***

"You're awfully quiet today," Garrett pointed out as he slid into the chair across from his co-worker. She was sitting in one of those uncomfortable sofas that were hard as rocks in the health center, eating a cup of yogurt with mixed in grains. She didn't look up at the comment but rather shrugged and pushed her spoon around the cup more. 

"I know I shouldn't ask this but is it about Ryan?" 

The words froze Evelyn for a moment before she could look up at Garrett, wide eyes and gaping mouth. They had never been a secret, but it was never really something people knew about. Especially not now. Evelyn went to ask how he knew, but Garrett knew what she would ask, and answered first. 

"I was on tour back then, he was someone I worked with on occasion, and I caught him crying one night before I went home. Figured it was because he'd lost. It was back at a challenger event. I got him to talk, and out comes your name, and how things weren't working out. Hadn't really thought about it until I saw him this morning."

"He was crying?" The words tumbled out before she could think better of them. 

"He was definitely crying."

"Yeah, I guess it's kind of about Ryan. I saw him this morning and he said some stuff, and it was just," she hesitated before finishing, looking for the right description, but it evaded her. "Weird."

Garrett nodded, trying to be understanding about the whole thing. "Have you guys talked about it?"

Evelyn laughed at the question, more bitter than humored. No they hadn't talked about it. They had screamed and cried about it, but it had never been talked about. It was too late now though. Four years later was probably not the right time to discuss a breakup. She needed to let it go. Ryan had a right to be upset about it too. There was a time that his comment this morning would have made her giggle and blush. Maybe it wasn't meant so much as a jab and more of a peace offering. Whatever it was, she didn't need to be this freaked out about it. Ryan was Ryan. Life would go on. 

"Not really, but it's too late now. Can you just not tell anyone else about it? It was a long time ago."

Garrett nodded in confirmation. The secret was theirs, though it wasn't really a secret.

***

 

At 8:00 AM the next morning, Novak stopped in the health office. It was empty. With a disappointed sigh, he found Evelyn's desk and set down the apple he had brought for her. He'd never been particularly fond of the fruit, but she loved them. Quickly, he scrawled a note to her, signing it with a simple N and leaving again. She would figure it out.

Evelyn was on the practice courts waiting for Rafa, but she instead saw her brother drilling with Ryan. This was a strange sight for her to see. It had never really crossed her mind that these two might be friends. Maybe it had to do with Ryan's first round draw. He was a pretty good grass court player, but he was playing Dimitrov first round. Things weren't looking great for him. She tried to ignore it. It was none of her business. Her father and Ryan's were both there too. It was like the whole family was in on it. 

Rafa arrived with his entourage, and successfully diverted her attention. Thankfully. 

By the time she left, the American posse was gone. She wondered if Felix would mention it. 

Back at the offices, Luca was conversing in French with Gasquet. She thought it was him at least. She'd never really spoken to him. 

In her office, she quickly spotted the apple, and the note under it. 

Dinner on Valle at 7 tonight?  
N

She balled up the note and tossed it into a waste basket, knowing full well what was meant by the vague wording. How he was planning on getting away from his posse tonight, she had no idea. Djordje almost caught them kissing in a training room the first day they were both at the grounds. Evelyn had met his father two days ago, and Novak could barely introduce them, he was blundering with his words so much. It was a miracle they were still a secret at this point. 

*** 

When Novak saw Evelyn sitting in a discreet corner of the restaurant that the hostess had pointed him to, he couldn't contain his chuckle. She was wearing a black sweater and dark wash jeans, a stark contrast to the white he was sure the ATP was making her wear earlier. 

He made his way to the table, taking his seat across from her so he was facing the wall. She greeted him with a simple smile, then looked back at her menu. 

"How was your day?" The question was simple, and a bit dull, but he was genuinely interested in the answer, and he leaned forward on his elbows as he waited for a reply. Evelyn pulled her hair to one side, thinking of how to answer the question. A tiny smile cracked her lips, and she looked up at Novak before saying anything. 

"It was good. Started out with these guys talking in a language I didn't speak, so that was a little rough, but what are you gonna do?" She shrugged her shoulders, obviously teasing Novak, but he could work with that answer. 

"Weird," he agreed, smirking in just the slightest before continuing. "I was at practice with Milos today, and said this girl who was there to work us was really hot, and Milos agreed, but she thought we were talking about the weather."

This stopped Evelyn momentarily and she bit back a smile, her face flushing at her own mistake, and also the true knowledge of what had been said that morning. 

"Can we go back to my place for dinner?" She asked suddenly, surprising Novak this time. "I have really fantastic gluten free pasta for you that Kara sent me actually, I think you'll really like it."

Unsure of what was fully going through Evelyn's head, he simply nodded, taking out a few pounds to leave as a tip for taking up the table without actually ordering anything. 

The two easily hailed a cab, which took them to Evelyn's temporary home. Novak hadn't been here yet, but all of these places looked the same. Save the huge box sitting on the kitchen table, it was clean and unpersonalized. 

Novak wandered in, looking around absently while Evelyn shut the door behind him. Soon though, she was in front of him, and she wrapped her arms around him, buried her face in the crook of his neck and breathed in the smell that was becoming very familiar. 

"Hi Ev," Novak laughed, confused at her sudden affection, but returning the hug regardless. He kissed the top of her head, running one hand through her hair, which was soft like silk. 

"Hi," she answered, pulling back from the hug and pecking his lips momentarily. "Sorry, this is going to sound stupid, because we're around each other all the time, but I just missed you." 

Novak smiled a sad smile, because what she said didn't sound stupid at all, it sounded like a harsh reality of a semi-charmed life.


	13. 2009

_"30-40." The words tasted like victory to Evelyn. She was one point away from her first grand slam title. She could do this. She was confident, why shouldn't she be? Her opponent prepared to serve, and Evelyn watched the ball, from toss, to serve to when it fell into the service box. She returned it to Dianara's backhand, her weakest shot, but Dianara smashed the ball into the far corner of the court. Evelyn wasn't in control of this point anymore, Safina was running her back and forth like they were reenacting an old Andre Agassi match. Finally, Dianara drop shotted the ball, and Evelyn sprinted for it. This point was for more than just the game, or the set, or match. Winning this point meant winning Wimbledon. She was there, Evelyn had her racquet there to block the ball back, but she hadn't totally stopped moving yet. The grass was slick, and had a mind of it's own. She collapsed, her left wrist taking the brunt of the fall, and most painfully, the ball not getting over the net._

_The crowd erupted in whispers, but to Evelyn, the world was silent. Now was not the time to show weakness though, and the wrist felt only a dull ache after the initial sting. She stood up, and returned to the baseline, ready to return again. The only thing that mattered in this moment was the ball. She watched it, and silently thanked God that the first serve went out. She crept in for the second, and when the ball came, she did what she was best at. Playing patient. Dianara was an aggressive player, she wanted to smash the ball every shot she got, but Evelyn was a counter-puncher, she hit good angles, and kissed lines with her balls, but she did it consistently. She could wear her opponents down, and they would end up giving her a perfect ball, which she could capitalize on._

_This was the case with Dianara too, even though she was the more experienced player. She gave Evelyn the perfect approach shot, a backhand which she drove into the left corner of the court. There was a spark of pain from her wrist from the shot, but there was no time to think about it, because she had to recover, she had to get to the next ball._

_After 3 more deuces, Evelyn lost the game. It was 5-4 now._

_On serve Evelyn's wrist twitched with each toss. The points felt drawn out, and the playing field felt a lot more even than it had been feeling earlier. After 2 deuces and 1 championship point, she was broken. It was now 5 all. Safina served, and even with the adrenaline in her veins, Evelyn could feel that there was something wrong. She winced noticeably every time she hit a two handed backhand, which on a normal day, was her best shot. She was determined though, this was the time to break. Dianara was not going down without a fight though, she was scratching and clawing for every point. The game played out for 23 minutes, but ended with Evelyn breaking. 6-5, changeover. The chair umpire looked to the 17 year old, who was biting her tongue now, blinking back tears. There was definitely something wrong here._

_"Do you need a trainer?" He asked quietly, leaning down towards Evelyn. Evelyn took a few deep breaths before looking back at him and shaking her head. If she called a trainer now, she was positive that they would tell her to stop playing. She couldn't stop playing though. This was the Wimbledon final. Evelyn could not, and would not stop. She was four points away from winning Wimbledon. She could serve four big serves, Dianara wasn't a very good returner, especially when they were well placed._

_"Time," the chair umpire called. He looked hesitantly at Evelyn, who was clearly in pain, but he had no power over her decisions._

_The ball boy from the corner approached her and placed three balls on her racquet._

_"Choose the best two," Evelyn requested, smiling at him, temporarily distracted from her wrist. The boy looked at her, then at the balls, considering them carefully, but quickly, before taking one back._

_Evelyn tucked one ball away in her skirt before looking back to the boy and whispering, "Ace, down the T, first serve." She held up the ball he had given her to emphasize this. The boy grinned back at her before taking his spot in the back corner again._

_Evelyn approached the line, bouncing the ball five times, then tossing it up. The toss was perfect, and set up everything she needed for a good serve. The whole serve felt like it was in slow motion. The second the strings connected with the ball she could feel herself making good on her promise. The ball barely clipped the outside edge of the T, but barely was good enough._

_"15-love." Evelyn turned to get another ball from the ball boy, who was smiling like no other. He bounced her a ball, and she let it land on her racquet. She took position again, served the ball, this serve not an ace unfortunately, but still doing the job. The rally drew out, but ended with a beautifully angled cross court backhand which left Evelyn's wrist screaming along with the rest of the crowd. She was two points away from winning Wimbledon._

_"30-love." Evelyn tossed the ball, and her serve was deep in the left corner of the service box. Safina drove the ball up the line, and Evelyn returned it with a backhand that landed straight at her feet._

_"40-love." One point away, had she payed more attention, she would have seen the swelling in her wrist, but she was young, and invincible, and one point away from winning her first grand slam title._

_The first serve clipped the net chord and went long. Second serve. Dianara moved in, sure she had Evelyn, and though the point was long and hard fought, she had been right, with a perfect drop shot just outside of Evelyn's reach._

_"40-15." The ball boy gave Evelyn two balls, and Evelyn mouthed to him, 'ace, down the T, 1st serve.' He smiled and nodded discreetly. She took her position, ready to serve. The deuce side was where her serve had always been stronger. Her wrist was in dire need of attention, but she didn't acknowledge that fact, focusing on the toss, the extension, the follow-through. The ball slammed against the backboard and the speed read 207 kilometers her hour. The crowd erupted, and Evelyn stood there, shocked. She looked around the stadium. She had just won Wimbledon. Her mouth opened, and she continued staring at the people celebrating for her. She had really just done that._

_She ran to the net where Dianara waited, clearly unhappy, but respectful. They shared a brief and sweaty hug before shaking the umpire's hand. The novelty of the idea of winning Wimbledon wore off a little and she rediscovered the burning pain in her wrist, and she asked the umpire to call a trainer, which he did, concerned._

_Within moments, a trainer arrived, and Evelyn showed him her wrist. He looked between the wrist and her face. He looked frightened, turning it gingerly, and pressing his fingers gently at different points. Evelyn's teeth gritted and she let out small whines when he pressed, or did almost anything to it. There was no adrenaline anymore, there was only fear. Her coach Santiago, and her father jumped out of her box and joined the two. Evelyn was on the verge of tears._

_Neither of the men said anything, but they both looked afraid, ignoring the groundbreaking win she just had for the moment._

_The trainer wrapped it, and they started the presentation ceremony, Evelyn trying to cover the wrist with a white warm up jacket from her bag. They all knew though. Even holding the rose water dish, her wrist felt strained, and she tried balancing it on a flat wrist rather than holding it properly. Dianara noticed. She looked livid._

"Good win today, Nov," Evelyn greeted. The tall Serb hadn't bothered with knocking, but rather just walked in. It was late, his match had been a night match, and he'd gone to press after, then to dinner with his team. 

"Hvala," he nodded in response, likely not even realizing he'd slipped into Serbian. He collapsed onto the couch beside Evelyn, who tossed the book she had been reading onto the coffee table in response, and looked over at him. He looked tired. His eyes drooped, and he was staring blankly at the wall.

"How're you feeling?" She asked, looking up at his side profile. He looked down at her, a pensive expression occupying his face until a smile worked its way onto his lips. 

"I'm feeling good," he nodded, still smiling. "Life has been really good to me," he explained. His smile was contagious, and soon Evelyn found herself grinning as we'll. 

"How so?" Evelyn encouraged. 

Novak leaned back, his legs sliding further forward, and stretched his arms out on either side of him, subsequently wrapping one around Evelyn's shoulders and pulling her in closer to him. "I'm playing good tennis. My body is cooperating. I'm healthy. My family is with me, and supporting me. I have the most beautiful girl in the world as my physio, and my girlfriend. What reason could I possibly have to not be feeling good?" He wondered, grinning down at Evelyn, who was blushing at his compliment. 

"Can I say something tennis related?" Evelyn asked, almost timidly. Novak looked at her curiously, nodding in affirmation. "I think you can win this tournament," she said, her voice almost hushed, like this was a conspiracy of some sort that she was letting him in on. Novak's smile only grew. 

"I do too," he whispered, and they both laughed. "I went to a rub-down after my match and I missed you,” he added, chuckling quietly to himself. Evelyn looked back at him with a knowing look, raising her eyebrows in a silent question. Novak just grinned back at her. 

“Is that so?” She questioned, rolling her eyes. He nodded, the ever-present smile on his face only getting wider now. Evelyn rearranged herself so that she straddled his lap, one leg on either side of his. Novak again smiled wider, closing his eyes for a moment before looking back up at Evelyn, who was smiling down at him now. “Who gave you the rub-down?” She wondered, leaning forward, nose-to-nose with Novak. 

“Marius,” Novak pouted dramatically. “He’s the old Chinese guy, and he pushes too hard, and he’s not nearly as pretty as you are.”

Evelyn pouted her own lips now, feigning sympathy. “You poor, poor thing,” she mocked, trying to hide the smile that threatened to give her away. 

“My normal physio is so fantastic, so it was really a downgrade,” Novak sighed dramatically. Evelyn leaned in to kiss his cheek, subsequently nudging his face to the side, allowing her further access to his neck. She left a trail of kisses up his neck, starting at his collar. “She’s very good to me,” Novak continued. “Her massages are the best. Everyone knows it too. You should hear the locker-room talk about her; not just the massages either. Even the coaches get in on it…” Novak’s speech was cut short by Evelyn’s lips on his own. He knew he had won this time though. What he had won was ambiguous, and mysterious, but it was a win, and he would keep it hidden away until he needed it. 

“You’re in the champion’s locker room,” Evelyn whispered, breathing heavy from the kiss, lingering on Novak’s words still. “But thank you.” She tried to move back in to continue the kiss, but Novak stopped her. Once again they were nose-to-nose, Evelyn smiling, but Novak looking more serious than the situation called for. Evelyn pulled back and cocked her head ever so slightly to the side, lost as to why Novak was so somber. 

“It’s true,” Novak pushed, looking very deliberately at Evelyn. “Not necessarily here, but in other tournaments. Everyone loves you, Ev,” he insisted. “Not just because you’re the best physio, or you’re hot, but as a person, we all love you. You’re nice, and funny, and cool. Speaking strictly as your clientele, you’re fantastic. They respect you. As a person, and as a physio, and as a player,” he explained. Evelyn looked taken aback. 

“That’s sweet of you guys, but I’m not a player anymore. I’ll take the person and physio parts though.”

“Evelyn,” he groaned, throwing his head back, frustrated. “You are as much of a player now as you were when you decided to turn pro. You won Wimbledon, and three masters, you were ranked number three in the world, you beat world class players as a teenager. You don’t just leave that all behind. You love tennis.”

Evelyn was surprised that Novak could list off achievements in her career so easily. She knew that he knew, but had never realized just how much he really knew. It scared her a little. The whole tennis world still intimidated her. For so long, even before she was really truly in it, it was ingrained in her, and she had always had tennis, and always been a part of something she loved, and now it was all she could do to try to stay away from it, because that world hurt her. The ATP gave some relief, because she didn’t have to work with her former competitors, and visit all of the tournaments she had not been able to play enough. Unfortunately, Novak did not want to let her forget, and act like none of it had ever happened. 

“Can we please not talk about this,” she choked, refusing to make eye contact. Tears welled in her eyes, ready to fall, and she took refuge in Novak’s chest, closing her eyes harshly, refusing to let any tears fall. Novak sighed quietly to himself, and wrapped his arms around the girl in his lap, gently rubbing up and down her back in an attempt to soothe her. 

“I’m sorry,” Novak murmured into her hair, leaving a small kiss on the crown of her head after he spoke the words. He had never meant to evoke this feeling, he had only been trying to tell her that she was loved and respected within the small community she worked in, and the people involved respected her beyond just her job and title. Evelyn had not taken it as such though, that much was clear. He was on very thin ice, and he would have to tread carefully from now on. Tread he would though.


	14. Deja Vu

_[1] Novak Djokovic d. [4] Roger Federer 6-7(7), 6-4, 7-6(4), 5-7, 6-4 to win 2nd career Wimbledon title._

It wasn't until the next night that Evelyn saw Novak. As a member of the All-England club herself, she was of course invited to the annual Wimbledon ball. Had it not been for Novak, she sincerely doubted she would have gone. To be fawned over by people she didn't know because she had ended her career here five years ago. But Novak's was just beginning. He was here for the long-haul, and that's what he was showing. So she found herself a deep red evening gown, some killer heels, and got herself ready for what could be a very long night. 

The press adored her appearance, especially since she arrive late. Evelyn smiled and waved briefly before she found herself in the grand ballroom. Wimbledon only had 19 courts, but they had a ballroom. This tournament. Upon entering, she saw a mass of people, none of them Novak. 

She made her way through people, looking for this years champion. Instead, she found his table. Marion, Boris, Djordje, Marko, Dijana and Srdan, amongst others. She tried to move casually away, but Becker stopped her before she could. 

"Evelyn, fantastic to see you!" He sounded buzzed at the very least. Evelyn half-smiled at the thought of a hammered Boris by the end of the night. Out of obligation, she turned and smiled. 

"I didn't know they invited staff," Srdan wondered out loud, earning uncomfortable looks from several of the table members. Evelyn just laughed, looking down at her concealed feet before looking back up. 

"I'm a member." The statement was not condescending, nor was it boastful, just a simple statement of the facts. A few faces at the table looked taken aback by this new information. Srdan looked lost, but also a bit embarrassed. Evelyn explained further, realizing that he still had no idea. "2009, but who cared about the women's final when you had Federer and Andy's battle for men's," she laughed at this, a bit sadly, not for her own lack of glory, but for Andy. 14-16 was one hell of a way to lose. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize," Srdan apologized, bowing his head slightly. Evelyn was about to wave it off when Novak arrived, Petra Kvitova on his arm, both smiling wildly. Winning Wimbledon would do that to you she supposed. 

Evelyn moved away from the table, eying her boyfriend carefully. She certainly hadn't spent this much time with Roger when she won. She scolded herself for thinking this. 

Evelyn took to seeking out the Americans she knew. There were a grand total of three. She came across Noah first, the winner of the boys tournament. He was from New York, and knew Felix. Noah talked highly of Felix, and was more than happy to talk to her as well. 

Next was Jack, a friend of hers, someone she'd know as a kid. Here he was, winning Wimbledon with some Canadian who he'd never played doubles with before. That was Jack for you though. Jack knew all about the Ryan fiasco, but had stayed very neutral between them, which she was thankful for. Jack didn't stop smiling for anything, and it was infectious. He was so good hearted, he just loved tennis, and it was great to be around. Evelyn took a seat at his table with various coaches and Vasek, his doubles partner. 

The music was turned up, indicated that the dance floor was open, and Jack looked immediately to Evelyn, his smile getting wider than it had been, something she hadn't realized was possible. It took a moment for Evelyn to catch on, but she laughed and nodded, standing up and following him to the floor. 

"Deja vu," Jack laughed, reminding Evelyn of her time training with him at Bolleterri Academy during long hot summers of her teenage years. They would have an end of summer "dance" to make them feel like normal teenagers for once in their life, and now, years later, under very different conditions, they were dancing together again. Mercifully, Jack didn't say anything about Ryan, and Evelyn asked questions about his recent win to make sure this trend continued. A few songs, and many laughs and trips down memory lane later, someone cleared his throat and spoke from behind Evelyn.

"Jack, congratulations."

Jack looked thrilled, dropping his arms from Evelyn, who turned to face the man she knew would be standing there. 

"Thank you," he grinned, returning the compliment. The two conversed in the middle of a dance floor like this for a few minutes until Novak looked to Evelyn. 

"Evelyn," he smiled, acting surprised to see her. She smiled back, returning his enthusiasm only semi-sarcastically. Novak noticed, but Jack failed to. A new song started, and Novak held out his hand over dramatically. "Can I take your partner?" Novak asked Jack for permission, laughing, to make this seem like no big deal. Evelyn felt her heart flutter slightly. She had become slightly more enamored with this man than she had ever planned to. Jack nodded, adding an "of course" before bowing out, back to his table. 

"Hi," Novak smiled quietly, reaching out for one of Evelyn's hands, and placing his other on the small of her back. Evelyn rolled her eyes, but a small smile gave her away. Novak wanted to kiss her, right here, right now, but he knew he couldn't. They hadn't truly talked since middle Sunday. He missed her. He knew that he would miss her even more in the next few weeks, when she was off at smaller tournaments, and he was training. His grip on her hand tightened, and he subconsciously pulled her closer to him. 

“Ev,” he whispered. Evelyn shivered at the sound of the nickname rolling off his tongue.

“Nov,” she murmured back to him. She felt his hand falling dangerously low on her back. Evelyn dropped one hand from around his neck and corrected its placement, moving it to where it was supposed to lay on her middle back before replacing her hand to it’s former position.

“Why don’t you call me Nole?” He asked, his lips getting a little too close to her skin. She tilted her head away from his mouth, further exposing her neck to him, though it only made it harder for Novak to restrain.

“We’ve been over this,” Evelyn told him. “It’s first and foremost not logical, I will never understand how an ‘L’ sound comes out from Novak. It’s like if people called me Elle. Secondly, it makes me feel like I’m in Spanish class. Nole, olé,” she took a long breath, and looked him in the eyes. “But if it means a lot to you, I can call you Nole,” she breathed, putting a heavy Spanish accent on Nole.

“No, I like Nov from you. It’s different, we’re different,” he smiled.

The song ended, and Evelyn dropped her hand from Novak's shoulder, his hand still holding tightly onto her own. Evelyn frowned at him, glancing down to their interlocked fingers then back up. He took the hint, letting go with disdain. 

 

“I should let someone else have a chance to dance with the champion,” Evelyn drawled, pulling away, much to the dismay of Novak. She gave him a wink before she walked away. Novak watched her go, her long legs hidden under the red gown she wore, once again, to the chagrin of Novak.

The rest of the night passed painfully slow. Novak wanted to be with the one person he could not be with. At around midnight, he saw her leave, escorted by an older man who he didn't recognize. The two were laughing and smiling, and Novak knew it was stupid to be jealous, yet this did not stop him. At around 1:30, he was finally permitted to leave, like he had been practically begging to since Evelyn left. 

"Nole, do you still want to go to that club?" Marko asked, winking discreetly at his older brother, encouraging him to play along. Novak was lost, but tried to hide it, nodding in affirmation to his little brother. 

"Yeah, I'd forgotten about that, but yeah I would love to go Marko," Novak agreed, confused, but intrigued. The older crowd of team and family waved the two off, encouraging them to go and enjoy their night.   
Secretly Novak hoped whatever Marko was playing at would be quick, because he had an open invitation to Evelyn's tonight that he had really been hoping on using. 

As soon as the car door closed, Marko looked seriously at his brother. 

"When were you planning on telling us about your girlfriend?" He smirked, pleased at the surprise evident on Novak's face. Novak stumbled for words, but Marko continued, not making him look any further. "I know about Evelyn, don't worry, I didn't tell anyone, though I'm not sure why it's such a secret."

Novak almost felt relieved in hearing these words. Someone knew now, and he could talk about his secret girlfriend with someone else. How Marko had discovered this, he didn't know. 

"I figured you wanted to see her, so I'll cover for you. Just make sure you're back in the morning."

In that moment, Novak swore he had never loved his brother more. Marko grinned at the look of excitement that his older brother wore now, happy to be the cause of this. 

"Here's the one condition," Marko explained, holding up his finger. "I'd like to meet her. And I mean, really actually meet and talk with her. Like, dinner sometime."

Novak confirmed that he would make it happen, and thanked his brother again for doing this as the car drove to Evelyn's flat. Novak somehow got off on a tangent of explaining Evelyn to Marko, and how things had happened, and what he loved about her, and before he knew it, the driver pulled up in front of Evelyn's flat, and Novak got out, still in his tux, and waved to his brother before climbing the stairs and knocking on the familiar door of Evelyn's temporary home. 

After a minute, the door cracked, revealing Evelyn, dressed in plaid pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, her hair thrown up into a bun on top of her head, and her face cleaned of any makeup she had been wearing before. Even so, she looked beautiful to Novak. 

"Hi," Evelyn said, her grin wide and she grabbed one of Novak's hands and pulled him into the flat, closing the door quickly after him. Once the door closed, she lept forward, throwing her arms around his neck, still smiling. Novak was lost, but happily so. "2014 Wimbledon Champion," she reminded him, nuzzling slightly deeper into the side of his neck. Briefly he considered returning the comment with, ‘2009 Wimbledon Champion’, but he knew that she would only brush it off and shut him out if he did, so he kissed the top of her head instead, keeping his words to himself. 

“How did you get away from your adoring fans?” She asked, alluding to his family, who were usually very involved in his whereabouts. 

“Funny story actually,” Novak started, leaning up against the breakfast bar after wandering into the kitchen. Evelyn cocked her head at this, intrigued. “Marko found out.” 

“How?” She wondered, not upset, but curious. She stood in front of Novak, placing her hands on either side of him on the counter, knowing Novak had a proclivity for literally moving away from situations he didn’t know how to handle. Novak noticed, and chuckled, shaking his head slightly before starting the story. 

“Marko is the only one in the family that likes apples,” he began, then paused. Evelyn looked at him expectantly until he proceeded. “Well, I kept taking apples to you, and leaving the in your office. Marko started noticing the apples disappearing, and I guess he was with Felix, who was looking for you, and saw one in your office, and put together me spending so much time with ‘Boris’.” 

“Tell Marko he should be a detective,” she laughed, smiling at the story, and the memory of the apples. Each one came with a note, and she enjoyed the notes more than the actual apple most times. It was a sweet gesture. It also ensured to Novak that Evelyn at least ate an apple, because she was somewhat notorious for forgetting to eat on tour. 

“Will do,” Novak nodded seriously, his arms moving discreetly to wrap around Evelyn and pull her closer. It was nice to have a girlfriend, but it was also nice to have a companion in general. They were friends. He could talk about his woes, and he could brood silently with her. It was nice, what they had was nice. Peaceful. Balanced. This was a release from tour life, and family. Evelyn knew, she got it, she got _him_.


	15. Chapter 15

Evelyn lay awake in her hotel room, staring blankly at the ceiling. The only source of light in the room was the alarm clock, which read 1:17 AM in a brilliant scarlet color. She wanted to sleep, but rest would not find her. Evelyn longed for a deep black sleep, it had been a long week, and not sleeping would only make it longer.

Her hand twitched to the phone that she had been avoiding all night. It was 7:17 in Belgrade now. Sunday. He would probably be going to church today. She hesitated for a moment more until giving in. 

The phone rang three times, starting the fourth when the line picked up. 

"Zdravo?" The voice was scratchy and tired. She had definitely woken him up. 

"Zdravo," she returned, feeling particularly guilty for waking him up. 

"Draji?" He asked, confused, but more awake now. A small smile broke onto her face at the term of endearment, however fleeting it was. "Ev, it's late for you. What's wrong?" Slight panic set into his voice now, and she could hear sheets rustling as he got up from his bed. Evelyn rarely called him, it was always the other way around.

Evelyn wanted to correct him, to tell him everything was fine, and she just wanted to hear his voice, and listen to him talk about what he was doing. Anything, she wanted to hear him say anything at all. All she managed was, "I'm sorry I shouldn't have called. I'm sorry, it was stupid, I hope you have a good day, I'll talk to you later."

"Don't you dare hang up that phone," came a growl from the other side. Evelyn was confused, but obeyed. "Tell me why you called." His voice was calm, even, serious. Novak never sounded like this. He was fun and excited and silly, but this was a different Novak.

"It's stupid, really. I'm fine, I shouldn't have called you, it was just late and-" She was more collected now, able to at least articulate basic things without wanting to cry.

"Evelyn, I don't care if it's stupid. I want to know."

"It's just late, and I couldn't sleep, and I missed you. I wanted to talk to you and to hear your voice and to know what Pierre is up to. I don't know, it's just been a weird week."

Novak couldn't help his own frown from turning into a smile. He missed her too, he liked when she called. He understood why she didn't usually, but that didn't mean he didn't want his girlfriend to call him still. He wanted to make time for her, and to have random conversations because she missed him at 1 AM. 

"That's not stupid," Novak argued, lightly, he didn't want to turn this into something more serious than it was, something that Evelyn had an affinity for when she was tired. "I like hearing from you Ev, no matter what time it is. It's nice to know you want to hear my voice. I want to hear yours too. Pierre is up to no good, as usual. He's getting a little spoiled since we're home. He's abandoned the dog bed I bought him in favor of my bed," Novak laughed, and Evelyn couldn't stop herself from smiling at this. 

"Sounds like he's trying to replace me," she joked, and the two laughed again. 

"Yes, you, a beautiful, intelligent, strong young woman, should be threatened by my toy poodle," Novak agreed very seriously, though he had a hard time not laughing at his response after he said it. 

"Poodles can be very conniving!" She defended, sitting up straighter and grinning even when there was no one there to see her. They laughed at this, and the conversation kept flowing, until suddenly, it was 3AM, and Evelyn had a flight in a few hours, and Novak was going to be late to church. They said their goodbyes, and Novak promised to skype later, and Evelyn promised to get some sleep. 

 

***

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of Air Canada, we'd like to be the first to welcome you to Montreal. We hope you enjoy your time here in Montreal, or your final destination, and hope to see you again soon." The stewardess' voice was sickly sweet, and obviously rehearsed, but they all were. People filed off of the plane, and through the terminal, in a rush to go nowhere. Evelyn picked up her purse and carry on bag. She hated that she had become such a heavy traveller, but when she was on the road this much, how could she not be? 

The luggage carousel commenced its spinning, and Evelyn found her once crimson suitcase that had faded to a dirty red hue thanks to heavy use. With her bags together, she very slowly made her way to to a cab, where the cab made its way very slowly to her hotel. A masters tournament was a welcome change of pace. Something a little longer, busier probably too. To be in one place for more than a week, even if it wasn’t by much. 

At the front desk of the hotel, the woman working asked if she was here for the tournament, as though the racquet bag on her shoulder and ATP sweatshirt were not dead giveaways already. It was all in good spirit, but it was still frustrating from the perspective of a girl who hadn’t really slept in 27 hours, and was going to be up again in six at the latest. When she finally recieved her key card and room, Evelyn stumbled to her room, and once in, dropped all of her bags on the ground before falling into bed herself. 

The sleep was fleeting, more so than usual, and cruelly, the alarm woke her at 7:00, which was still sleeping in for her. With the tiny amount of motivation she had, Evelyn found her way to the bathroom to get ready.

At 7:30, her phone buzzed to life, and fresh out of the shower, Evelyn glanced over the text. Novak had offered up food if she would only make the trek up to his room. Throwing on the ATP sweatshirt and the first pair of jeans from the suitcase was good enough for her, and she then ventured to the top floor, finding Novak's suite and knocking quickly. The door opened, and Evelyn stepped in, immediately wrapping her arms around Novak's neck for a hug which he returned. The suite was much larger than her own, and had a small table for eating at, which was adorned with a white paper bag and two coffee cups. 

"Hello," Novak greeted, a smile his primary facial feature at the moment. Evelyn returned the greeting, and smile, but she was still half-asleep. "How are you feeling?" He asked, closing the door behind Evelyn, who was only half-way paying attention to what he said because the draw of coffee was very strong right now. 

"Tired, hungry, a little grumpy," she listed, turning to Novak with a small grin on her face, contrasting her prior words. She walked backwards, grabbing Novak's hand and pulling him towards the table, and the ever so alluring coffee that waited there for her. 

"Poor kid," Novak pouted with her, allowing the smaller girl to pull him to the table, where she collapsed into a chair, still holding on to Novak's hand. Her other, unoccupied hand   
Gripped at the table, waiting for an invitation to the coffee that at this moment in time, she needed. Novak caught on though, and explained the food in front of her. 

"That coffee's for you," Novak encouraged, gesturing casually to the taller to-go cup on the table, which Evelyn reached for in turn. "I figured it's been a rough travel day, so I risked my life and my reputation to get you a donut too," he shrugged, smugly. He looked so pleased with himself, and Evelyn only smiled in return. Coffee was enough to make the world a few shades brighter. 

"Thank you," she responded genuinely, giving Novak's hand, that still rested in hers, a quick squeeze to affirm her appreciation. 

Novak rubbed circles into Evelyn's hand with his thumb, drinking from his own cup, which was tea instead of coffee, as she recounted the last few weeks without him. 

"I'm gonna be late," Evelyn noted, resting her head pathetically on the table before she made the move to get up. 

Novak glanced at his watch; it was only 8:20. Evelyn never scheduled anything before 9:00 on her first day at a tournament. He held on to Evelyn's hand, pulling her back to him.

"Don't go," he whined, standing himself now. He stood five inches taller, though he didn't stay towering for long, ducking his head down to Evelyn's level where he kissed her lips, and waited patiently for the inevitable, I have to. 

"I don't want to," she frowned, resting her forehead against his, the fingertips of her free hand now placed softly on his cheek. "But I have to change, and get to the grounds, figure out a schedule..." 

The sentence trailed off, and Novak moved in again, lips soft, and inviting. If given the choice, both would have elected to stay there all day, but the responsibilities forced on each by the outside world existed, as much as both of them wanted to deny them for the moment. There would be a time to ignore them later. 

"Dinner tonight?" Evelyn proposed in half a whisper. Novak kept his silence, and leaned into the palm of the smaller girl's hand. 

"It would have to be late," Novak finally answered. His words triggered a smile on Evelyn's face. 

"Let me know when works for you, and where," Evelyn instructed, a line that she had said many times before, and would probably say many times again. Novak gave a little nod before leaning in to peck her lips one more time, feeling extra greedy for kisses today. 

The two parted ways, Evelyn to work, and Novak to the gym with Marian, which was in a way work as well. 

Lunch was a whirl for Evelyn, who was once again feeling the pressure of being the only person who consistently worked with all of these men, and subsequently, in highest demand. She ate when she could, which was between appointments, and brief stopovers in the health center for supplies. 

For Novak, lunch was a relaxed affair, sitting at a table with his team discussing the Monfils match-up that Novak would have tomorrow. Calm, cool and collected, the team felt good overall about the tournament and how to proceed with the next opponent. 

The chaos and calm of each lifestyle constantly toggled between the two, but they kept themselves in check. 

Evelyn was the calm that night, when Novak called at 10:28 and asked if she still wanted dinner. She had been reading a book, her work temporarily forgotten when the phone hummed its tune. She wanted to know what in the world had kept him so late, but realistically, there were many things that it could be. 

Mere minutes after the call, Evelyn was in the hallway, waiting for the elevator to stop, and then take her to the top floor. When the faint ding sound called her attention back to the doors, where she walked in and pressed the button for the top floor: her destination. Two floors later, the elevator halted again, just a few floors short of where she wanted to be. Then the doors opened. Then she saw Boris Becker.

Shit.

She took inventory on what she had right now; dignity wasn't on that list, especially considering that she was in her pajamas in an elevator with Boris Becker right now. What excuse could she possibly fabricate? 

They greeted each other first, exchanging the obvious pleasantries and such before Boris turned to select his floor, only to find it already selected. 

"I didn't know the ATP accommodated you so well," he joked. Evelyn smiled and laughed along with him before shaking her head. 

"I have been promising to loan this book to Tomas forever, and he just asked me about it a few minutes ago so..." She held up the book in her hand as proof before laughing uncomfortably. 

Nice. Well done. Crisis averted. 

The lift dinged again, signaling that they could step out into the hall now, which they did. Boris nodded.

"Nice seeing you," Boris said, waving to Evelyn who was already scurrying in the opposite direction of Novak's room. 

Around the corner, safely hidden, Evelyn called Novak. 

"Draji," his voice whined, "where are you?" 

"Nov, can you just check the hallway and tell me if it's clear?" 

There was a rustling on the other end, and the creak of a door that really shouldn't be there for as nice of a hotel as it was. "It's empty."

Evelyn relaxed, and tip-toed, unnecessarily to the open door where Novak stood, eyebrows raised in question, but allowing her in all the same. 

"I ran into Boris in the elevator and the I freaked out a little and told him I was taking a book to Tomas," Evelyn tried to explain. Novak looked even more confused, so she started in on a more detailed explanation of the dilemma. Novak grinned through the whole thing, enjoying the suffering she had been through. 

"Why not just tell him you were coming to give me a massage?" 

She tried to refute it, but couldn't find reason that lacked flaws. After admitting his idea's simple brilliance, she offered, "Do you want a massage?"

Novak rolled his eyes at her, taking a seat on the bed with Evelyn in suit. "Always, but not right now," he laughed, wrapping both arms around Evelyn and pulling her back to him where they subsequently lay happily talking about what was going on, in their lives, in the world, in tennis. 

Like most nights, the clock put a damper on things. "Don't you have a match tomorrow?" Evelyn asked. It was 11:32. 

"Yeah," Novak nodded absently. Evelyn tried to stand, but was held in place by a firm pair of arms. "Don't go," he whined for the second time today alone. He always did, and Evelyn always wanted to comply. "Please stay," he mumbled into her shoulder now. 

"Nov." 

"Ev." His voice was soft and sound, but pleading. 

Silence ensued. They sat together, Novak still with a strong hold on Evelyn's waist, and head still resting on her shoulder. 

Evelyn turned slightly so she could look at him. He stared her down, not in a malicious way, but a desperate way. "Nov, I'm gonna fuck with your head," she warned, reaching back to grab his hand. 

"You're intentionally going to fuck with my head?" He challenged. His voice was stronger now, more acrimonious. 

"You know that wasn't what I meant. It's just... I just don't want to mess this all up, I don't want to mess you up." 

"Stay." He punctuated his command with a fond nuzzle at Evelyn's neck. "I want you to stay." A kiss below her ear. "Please, stay."

Leaning back into his arms, she reached one arm around Novak's neck, fingers slowly rubbing at the line where his hair stopped as she'd learned he was so keen on over the last few months. "I'll stay," she agreed, peeking over her shoulder to make eye contact. This seemed much too personal a moment to be looking at another dull hotel wall when she could be looking at her bright and brilliant companion. He smiled that winning smile of his, then kissed her temple, looking quite satisfied. 

"What time do I need to be out of here tomorrow?" Evelyn asked just moments later, prompting a harsh look from Novak. 

"Can you do me a favor?" He whispered, voice barely audible, changing the mood considerably. Evelyn nodded, and could feel the hot breath cascade down the side of her neck. She closed her eyes and relaxed again and he left a trail of kisses up her neck. When he got to the ear, he nibbled on it for a moment before his lips went to hovering over her ear. "Shut the fuck up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm literally the anti-Christ for not updating in like 20 years. I re-wrote this chapter because I'm indecisive and stupid but I hope you like it


	16. Schrödinger's Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was hope that it was alive, but fear that it was dead.

_6-2, 6-7 (4), 7-6 (2)_

Three excruciatingly long sets. It was unbelievable. Not that Gael wasn't playing well -he was- but Novak should have been able to do the job in straights. 

Even just watching the live scores from a phone was painful. The suspense was what killed her. What kept her coming back to check. Like a train wreck, she couldn't look away. 

She knew of course, this wasn't because of her. But also there didn't seem to be any other reason for a sudden downturn in Novak's game. It was purely superstition. She was a break in the routine. So even as the reason in her knew this had nothing to do with her, it was hard to find any reason but her as the cause. 

It wasn't like this hadn't happened before. It was all too easy to throw off someone's mental game, even when you had no intention to do it. 

Though she stayed busy all day, her mind hardly wandered from one thing: how the fuck had she let this happen again?

As soon as she could, she abandoned the grounds, not going back to the hotel, nor anywhere in particular. Wandering the streets of Montreal, she found a bar which she took refuge in, ordering a Manhattan iced tea. In a very un-like Evelyn decision, she turned her phone off and hid it away in her bag. 

There was a nice Colombian man next to her, he was studying abroad for the year, and they bonded over a soccer game that was on. Too many drinks later, and the clock told her it was 11:41, long past time to return to the hotel. 

Digging in her bag, she found the black cased work phone and pulled it out. Three missed calls, a clutter of texts and emails, but none that she would have the heart to look at until tomorrow. She called a taxi service, and they came to get her, dropping her off in front of the hotel. She focused on walking confidently and in as straight of a line as was possible. Thankfully, only hotel staff and two strangers got to witness her walk of shame of sorts. 

As she walked to her room from the lift, she contemplated how long she could ignore her phone, and physically avoid Novak. Maybe this wasn't the mature thing to do, but she'd had years of doing the mature thing behind her, so maybe this one time she could give in to the immature course. 

Setting two alarms to ensure she did in fact wake up tomorrow, Evelyn fell into bed with her clothes from that day still on. 

***

The next morning was absolute hell. She swallowed two aspirins to start the day and packed more for the inevitable all day parade going on in her head. 

The drive to the grounds was cruel, the driver made conversation the whole time, incredibly friendly and vibrant, a disposition Evelyn felt she had to match. Not a good plan. When she arrived, later than usual and wearing dark sunglasses to hide the red in her eyes, the health office seemed more buzzing than usual, and it didn't take long for her co-workers to point out her rather dismal state. 

"What the hell happened to you last night?" Garrett was the first to chime in, wearing a brilliant smile as he moved closer for a better vantage point. He was usually the one who went out to get fucked up, so he took any chance he was given to point it out about someone else. 

Evelyn frowned and tried to move into an office, but Garrett wrapped one arm around her shoulder and turned them both to face the rest of the group. 

"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced with what sounded like glee. "It has been eight long months of waiting, but the prodigal sister has come into work hungover." 

He looked so pleased it was almost funny. 

"I'm glad you're so happy about it," Evelyn deadpanned, glaring back at him with absolutely no humor in her voice. Garrett's smile didn't drop. 

After more poking and prodding fun at Evelyn, the situation naturally dissipated, ending with Luca tossing her a bottle of water as everyone dispersed. 

Evelyn went to her first appointment with Karlovic, who either didn't notice, or didn't mind that she did not seem to be quite herself this morning. Idle chit chat and the normal instruction was given, but after that, they parted ways. Evelyn had time between now and her meeting with Gasquet, and she desperately wanted coffee. Sometimes coffee could be found on her desk placed over a post-it note that had a smiley face and a little N in the corner. The thought brought general feelings of dread, and made the coffee even more important. 

Avoiding Novak and all of his attempts at communication was perhaps not the most mature way to handle this. Maybe perhaps wasn't the right word. It definitely wasn't the mature way to handle this. With coffee in hand, she sat down at an empty table. She listened to the hustle and bustle around her as spectators grabbed their own caffeine and then rushed off to different matches. After a few minutes of peace, a decision had to be made. It was 10:17 now, and she had a meeting at 10:30. Did she dare read what he had to say? 

Like a tsunami, ripping through her thoughts without warning, an idea emerged. What if it wasn’t just Evelyn who thought these things. Maybe Novak was sitting somewhere right now blaming her for them too? Every missed shot, every failure to convert breaks, every minute detail suddenly became a direct reflection on the only thing that made any sense: the break in routine. 

With these thoughts, a decision was made. She would rather her relationship be Schrodinger's cat for now. It was less painful to face the unknown than it could be to see a hard end to something she had never intended to find so dear. 

Gulping down another mouthful of coffee that was undeniably overpriced, and not outstanding in any way, Evelyn knew her decision was set. No. She couldn’t possibly look. Whatever this was with Novak, it was alive and dead, but that was better than dead altogether. 

As the hours of the day passed, the coffee on an empty stomach became an evidently bad idea, and besides a headache that already pounded, Evelyn saw the ridiculous scenarios and 'what if' situations play out in her mind, each putting a heavier burden of dread and denial upon her shoulders. At the end of what started as a long day, Evelyn grabbed her purse and rested her head against the office wall for a moment. The moment ended when the door could be heard opening, and Evelyn hesitantly peeked around the corner to catch a glimpse. 

Familiar blue eyes and freshly washed hair that looked brown now, but would somehow dry a familiar dirty blonde hue greeted her. 

_Please not now. Not today. Please._

Evelyn tried to hide again, act as though she was never here at all, but it was too late. They both knew. 

"So mature, Evelyn," the voice sounded, and Evelyn flinched at how caustic the words were. A silence ensued, as Evelyn replaced her head to its resting position on the wall. This was not something she could handle right now. 

Now the cold reality of what it was like to break up with a tennis player was refreshed for her as Ryan's words from post break-up rang clearly in her head. The accusations; _‘please can we try this again’_ , then the ‘ _I thought you cared_ ’ with the grand finale of ‘ _you never loved me._ ’ It was exhausting, she could recall feeling drained perpetually. It hurt to lose someone you loved. 

Evelyn focused on deep breaths in and out and she felt the lump form in her throat and she knew that should she open her eyes, tears would fall. Meanwhile, footsteps sounded, and Ryan walked the building. A door opened, then closed, and the footsteps returned. 

“Do you know where Garrett i-” He hadn’t yet finished his sentence when a heavy thump came from one of the offices. At first he looked around to see some other cause, but the only other person or living thing here was Evelyn. Suddenly caught in a panic, Ryan ran to the door he had seen her peek around. Indeed, there she lay in a slump on the floor. 

"Evelyn?" He asked, dropping to his knees and shaking her firmly. She didn't respond, and he searched his pockets for his phone, but he didn't find it. In desperation, he reached into her purse and grabbed the flowered case phone. Ignoring the huge number of notifications that lay unchecked on her lock screen and typed the same passcode he would have three years ago. It worked. Just as he was about to call Garrett, the girl's eyes fluttered open. She couldn't have been out for more than a minute but the panic still stood. 

She tried to sit up, but Ryan held her down firmly with one hand. 

"You should stay for a minute," he insisted,his hand still pinning her shoulder to the ground. Evelyn only nodded, and the silence became too much too soon for Ryan, who felt the need to fill it with something. "I was just calling Garrett," he explained suddenly, holding up Evelyn's phone. "Sorry," he added, "I didn't have my phone on me." 

“Please don’t,” came her quiet response. Her voice made clear the lump that was still in her throat, and Ryan tensed up as a result. He never did like to see her cry. “He worries too much as it is. It’s been a long day, I just haven’t eaten.”

Ryan covered his face with both of his hands, allowing Evelyn to sit up now. 

“For fuck’s suck Ev, you have to eat,” he muttered, the old nickname rolling off his tongue as easily as ever. After the injury, he’d been there to witness some of her worst days. She would simply forget to eat, she worried so much about absolutely everything and everyone else, and yet neglect what her body needed. It used to be something he worried about often. 

“I know,” she nodded, the first tears falling. “I’m sorry.”

“Shit,” Ryan sighed, “ I didn’t mean to make you cry.” 

Evelyn shook her head furiously, and tried to wipe the tears away, but they refused to yield. A hand that could only belong to Ryan rubbed up and down her back in circles, trying to calm her down again, but it only made the crying worse.

“I’m-” she heaved in a breath between sobs before she could finish, “-sorry.”

They sat there like that for a few minutes as Evelyn tried to regain some semblance of composure, and Ryan continued rubbing her back. When she could finally manage to string words together again, Evelyn spoke.

“You should go, I didn’t meant to interrupt your night like this,” Evelyn finally managed to breath out. Ryan’s hand stopped its circling and moved to her shoulder again.

“Ev, you fainted, you’re not getting off the hook that easy.” 

There was the faintest squeeze on the shoulder, an endearing gesture that made Evelyn’s heart ache once again for hurting this man so badly. It had never been her intention. Before the lump could find its way back to her throat, Evelyn insisted that she was going to go back to her hotel, eat, hydrate and go to sleep. Ryan held out his pinky silently to her, and she stuck out her own too, swearing on it, making both of them crack smiles before climbing back to their feet. 

Before they even exited the office though, a literal obstacle blocked the door. Standing tall, and looking expressionless, stood Novak Djokovic.

“Hey man,” Ryan started, walking towards his colleague. “I think Abrams is done for the day. We can call you another trainor though.”

Novak glanced between Ryan and Evelyn, still blank in expression. 

“He’s here for a re-wrap,” Evelyn jumped in. “It’ll be five minutes tops. I can do it, Ry.”

Ryan started to object again, but before he could, Evelyn began again, “Five minutes, then, food, fluids, sleep. I’ll sleep in tomorrow too.” 

Ryan knew she was set in her decision, she often was. There was no use trying to get her to give in now, so he turned to Novak and gave him a nod, peeked back at Evelyn then walked out, leaving the two alone at last.

The two stared at each other until they heard the main door open and close again. 

Novak’s mouth opened for the second time that night, only to be cut off again. 

“I love you,” Evelyn declared before he could speak, leaving him stunned for a moment. The expressionless Novak was gone, and a look of bewilderment could be seen now. She didn't move, or try to explain her words to the clearly stunned man in front of her, but merely waited for some sort of response. Evelyn waited to see if Schrödinger’s cat was alive, or dead. 

Novak stepped forward. One hand found its way into Evelyn’s hair, the other wrapped around her back and pulled her flush against his body. Their lips were soft and relentless against one another. 

“I love you too,” Novak nodded, a little out of breath from the kiss and holding a very serious expression. Again, they stared at each other silently for some time until Evelyn finally broke out into laughs and smiles. At the sight of her, so exuberant and with a smile that made it absolutely impossible for him not to smile along with her, he wanted to say it again and again and again. He wanted to shout it from rooftops, he wanted to do absolutely anything in his power to keep that smile on her face. 

Schrödinger’s cat was very much alive.


End file.
